The Weight of the Past
by Ceggle143
Summary: McKenzie has hunted since she was a teenager, taking a break only long enough to make the worst mistake of her life. But she's been back in the driver's seat for a couple of years when she runs into the Winchesters and joins them on a hunt, where both Dean and Sam realize she's more like them than they first knew. And for once, Dean might not be the most cynical person on a hunt.
1. Chapter 1

McKenzie Howard slammed the trunk of her car, pleased with how quickly her latest hunt had gone. It'd been a quick salt and burn really, but given the damage the spirit had done, she'd expected something harder.

She glanced at her watch. Only eight. Time for a drink.

The '66 Mustang roared with a flick of her key, giving McKenzie a smile. And to think Clay had thought it was a pile of junk. Her smile vanished at the thought of him, so she flipped on the CD player she'd installed and starting blasting some Spice Girls.

The Mustang glided into a spot at the tiny bar, as McKenzie reveled in how every town must have a 'build your own bar' kit so they almost all looked the same. She swung her denim bag over her shoulder and tapped the car door so it shut with care.

The bar stank of cigarettes, a haze of smoke hanging in the air. McKenzie gazed at the cigarette that one of the guys playing pool was smoking. It had been a while since she'd smoked, and suddenly she was desperate for a cig.

"Excuse me, could you spare a cigarette?" She smiled at the guy who was smoking who grinned back at her.

"Sure, sweetie. And maybe later you can repay me for that cigarette." He leered down at her.

McKenzie's stomach flopped anxiously, "Nevermind, I'm good."

"Hey, baby, where you goin?" He stepped in front of McKenzie's path, his stocky frame blocking her view.

"I said I'm good, thanks," McKenzie moved to step around him, but he followed, putting a hand on her elbow.

"Why you leaving so soon? We can go back to my place." He wagged his eyebrows at her suggestively.

"I said I'm good," she said firmly.

His grip tightened as he pulled her closer, the smell of the alcohol he'd been drinking overtaking her nose.

"Hey, leave her alone!"

The man turned towards a muscular guy of average height, but with the most brilliant green eyes McKenzie had ever seen.

"This ain't your business," the man growled at him.

"No, but it is _my_ business," said McKenzie. She pulled back and kneed him in the groin, causing him to release his grip on her arm. Once her arm was free, she hauled back and punched him in the eye. "Cigarette or not, I owe you shit."

The man beside her was wide-eyed as the cigarette-smoker fell backwards against the pool table.

McKenzie gave him a quick smile, "Thanks!" She eyed the bartender who was glaring at the half-conscious man. "But I think I should probably find a drink elsewhere."

He smiled at her, "Good luck. Pretty sure it's the only bar in town."

She shrugged, "One town's as good as the next." With that she hurried from the bar as the cigarette-smoker started to regain his footing.

Instead McKenzie swung by the convenience store that was next to her motel and bought a bottle of red wine and a pack of cigarettes. It had become an almost nightly ritual to have something to drink, but the cigarettes were rare. Had she been able to bum a cigarette from that guy she would've been fine, but after the adrenaline from punching him had worn off, the flashbacks had started. Looked like it would be a night for chain smoking.

Some random sitcom was playing on the motel TV as she polished off her fifth glass of wine, her stomach growling from sudden hunger. She frowned down at her stomach and grabbed her wallet, pulling out a couple of ones.

The night air had gotten chilly as McKenzie pattered down the cement sidewalk barefoot towards the vending machines.

She was deciding between the spicy Doritos and the classic Lays when she felt a presence behind her.

McKenzie whipped around, her change scattering on the ground as the man from the bar appeared behind her.

"YOU!" He slammed her into the machine, the plexiglass screen bending and rattling under the force. Ironically she heard some chips fall behind her.

McKenzie was already feeling the wine, her reaction slower than normal. Served her right for picking the Cabernet. It always messed with her.

After some clumsy attempts to fight him off, he pushed his body fully into hers, sandwiching her between his bulk and the cold plexi.

The flashbacks thrust into her mind, but weakened as the weight of him vanished suddenly.

She flung herself away and cowered against the wall.

"Hey, it's okay…" The same green-eyed man from earlier leaned over her, one hand stretched out tentatively.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean reached his hand closer toward the frightened woman. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

She peered up at him and seemed to realize they were alone. "Where is he?"

Dean nodded to where the man was passed out on the ground. "He was pretty drunk, so it didn't take much to knock him out."

The woman nodded and moved to stand.

Dean went to help her up, but she jerked away. Realizing what she'd done she shrugged, "Sorry. Habit."

"All good." Dean shrugged in return. Her familiarity suddenly clicked. "Hey, you're the chick from the bar."

"Is that a typical line, or something new?"

Dean frowned, "No, I mean, I saw you at the bar earlier. That guy must've followed you." He'd seen the guy leave a few minutes after her, but just figured his pride was hurt and he was going to go home and sleep it off.

"Oh," it seemed to dawn on her, "you're the guy who tried to save me."

"Well, no offense, but I think this time around I did save you," said Dean.

"I would've been fine," she replied nonchalantly.

"Fine? Dude was all over you." Dean was incredulous. Was she in denial or just stupid?

"I would've regained my balance and put his ass down." She scowled at Dean, but after a moment seemed to soften. "But… thanks anyway."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah, sure, no problem."

The woman picked up her Snickers, shoving it into the pocket of her sweatpants, and then began to gather the change from the ground. As she picked up the quarters, Dean noticed the anti-possession tattoo just on the inside of her wrist.

"You're a hunter!"

She twisted her head up at him suspiciously. " _Christo_."

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt down to show her his tattoo. "I'm Dean."

Standing, she flicked her eyes up and down, "Winchester?"

Dean nodded. "Guilty."

She frowned and then reached out a hand, "McKenzie Howard. I occasionally did some work for Bobby. He's still missed."

"Yeah, he is."

The two were silent for a moment before Dean spoke, "What are you in town for?"

"Ghost up at the tire factory causing issues. Already salted and burned him. Once I decide on my next job, I'm headed out."

"Wait, was that the one where the bodies were turning up trapped in rings of tires?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, why?"

Dean snorted, "Well, you just did our job for us, sweetie."

McKenzie nodded, "Anytime."

"We have some pizza in the room if that's not enough," Dean gestured towards the Snickers.

McKenzie glanced over at the vending machine, "I was actually gonna get some chips too."

"Over pizza? Chips are good, but pizza's better."

McKenzie seemed uneasy for a moment, but then nodded, "Okay, sure."

"We're down here in room five." He pointed. "Ladies first."

As they walked Dean studied the woman in front of him. She was short and a bit on the chunkier side, but it was clear after his meeting with her at the bar that she knew how to take someone down. If he had to guess, and he was normally right, she was hedging on a size ten given her hips and boobs. There were a few purple and teal streaks in her dark brown hair which was secured in a loose bun at the back of her head. He glimpsed the top of another tattoo just under her shirt on her upper back, but he couldn't tell what it was.

She stopped abruptly and he realized they were in front of his and Sam's room. He felt sheepish for having been absorbed in staring at her, but he recovered quickly.

"Sam, you decent?" He stuck his head in and then plowed into the room without waiting for an answer, McKenzie following behind.

"Since when do you ask-" Sam started, and then paused. "Ah. Nevermind."

"Hey, it's not what you think. She's a hunter." Dean opened the pizza box and shoved it out at McKenzie.

"McKenzie Howard." She nodded at Sam as she accepted a slice of pepperoni from the box.

"Sam Winchester," Sam replied, standing from his chair. "Beer?" He popped the lid off of one and sipped.

"No, thanks. Already have wine in my room."

"Oh you're one of those," Dean chuckled.

"One of what?" McKenzie raised an eyebrow.

"Wine? Really?"

"Wine is not only healthy for you, but it's often stronger than beer and much tastier." McKenzie took a bite of the pizza and sat on the edge of Dean's bed.

"Nothing is healthy if you're chugging it." Dean opened a beer and took a long draw.

"Says the person whose drinking schedule is more regulated than his eating schedule," Sam laughed.

McKenzie gave Sam a slight smile and took another bite of her pizza.

Dean rolled his eyes and changed the subject, "So McKenzie already took care of that tire shop job."

"Really?" Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That's awesome. Seems like a lot for one person."

McKenzie shrugged, swallowing her pizza, "It was just a salt and burn. I thought it would be harder too."

"Well, I guess now we can look into this other case I found." Sam motioned towards his laptop. "Actually, McKenzie, you may be able to help."

Dean flicked his eyes over to Sam questioningly, but Sam was oblivious.

"What's it look like?" McKenzie polished off the pizza crust and joined Sam at his laptop.

"Well, I was thinking witch, but now I'm not so sure." Sam shrugged. "There have been four murders in just over a week, and each is weirder than the last."

"How so?" Dean chugged the rest of his beer and tossed it in the trash can, joining McKenzie at Sam's laptop.

"The first one was found crushed to death sitting on his couch. The second was covered in tiny holes all over with her eyes missing. The third was covered with bee stings, and the fourth suffocated under… get this, a mountain of clothes and trash."

"Dude, there's like no connection here." Dean frowned at the laptop.

McKenzie cocked her head. "Did they know each other?"

"I don't think so. They all had different jobs in different locations. None of them live near each other in the city. I don't even think they went to the same schools as kids." Sam took a sip of his beer. "It's like they were chosen at random."

"Where is it?" Dean asked.

"Few hours from here – just over the Kansas border." Sam closed the screen to the computer. "I figured we could hit it on the way home."

"Home?" McKenzie looked at them with surprise.

"Well, sort of, yeah. We have a bunker of sorts." Sam explained.

"That must be nice." McKenzie looked wistful.

"It is," Dean agreed thinking of his room with the few possessions he'd collected. He missed it when they were on the road, which was still a new feeling, having something _to_ miss. He considered McKenzie who had grown morose looking over the mention of a home. Normally Dean hated having new people tag along, but her expression kicked him in the gut. A flash of her cowering against the wall sprang through his head and he wondered if that happened a lot. For a hunter that was basically suicide.

"So, McKenzie, wanna come with?" Dean asked, ignoring the look of confusion Sam threw him.

McKenzie's expression also hinted at confusion, but changed slowly. "Sure." She shrugged. "Why not?"


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE 

McKenzie sipped at the coffee, sighing with relief at the promise of caffeine. Despite finishing off the rest of the wine after leaving the Winchesters' room, she'd gotten little sleep, waking every hour or so from nightmares sparked by her run in with Drunken Guy. After waking up three times, the last time thinking Clay was in the room with her, she opted to remain awake until the Winchesters were supposed to get her a couple hours later at 7am.

Now, just halfway through the drive she was on her second Starbucks Double Shot. There was still another two hours left in the drive and McKenzie was already daydreaming of a nap. She sighed, realizing not only would there not be time for a nap, but she likely wouldn't get a lot of sleep anyway. It always took a couple of days for the nightmares to go away once they were triggered.

She cranked up the stereo, singing along with her old *NSync debut album to keep her energy up.

By the time she reached _I Want You Back_ , Dean had pulled off into a gas station about an hour away from their destination.

Sam walked up to her Mustang where she waited while Dean filled up the car.

"Hey, how's the drive?"

McKenzie tried to answer but was interrupted by a yawn.

"That bad, huh?" Sam laughed as she finished off the yawn.

"Yeah, I think sleep is the first thing casualty when you become a hunter." McKenzie purposely ignored the fact that most of her sleep had been disrupted by nightmares that had nothing to do with what she hunted.

Sam nodded sagely. "Oh, don't I know it. Want me to join you for the last hour? Maybe we can brainstorm some ideas about these murders."

McKenzie considered. "Long as you don't mind 90s pop music."

"Dean only listens to rock from more than 25 years ago. I'll take anything different right now."

"Fair."

McKenzie had changed over to a mix CD by the time she and Sam were on the road, though she kept it at half-volume so they could talk.

"So how did you get into hunting?" Sam sipped at a bottle of water he'd picked up at the gas station.

"Family. I was raised by my grandmother while my parents hunted, though my grandmother made spells and equipment for hunters. She did a bit of white magic to find easier ways to protect hunters. She also taught others how to scry in order to find missing people. It really helped when we needed to find potential victims."

"Wow. Maybe you could show us some of her stuff?"

"Sure." McKenzie nodded and then paused before continuing. "My dad died when I was 14 from a vampire. Mom a couple years later when I was 16. I'd started hunting with them on and off from the age of 12, so when I was 18 and my grandmother couldn't stop me, I decided to go out on the trail."

"You worked alone at 18?" Sam looked surprised.

"Sometimes. For bigger jobs I generally joined up with some other hunters Mom and Dad had hunted with before. For smaller things, like a salt and burn, I did it alone. I met Bobby through some of the other hunters. There were more than a few times I showed up at his house with a split lip or in need of stitches."

"Bobby was a good man. I'm surprised we never ran into you at some point."

McKenzie shrugged. "More often than not I went to my grandmother first. It wasn't until after she passed that I went to Bobby on a regular basis. I do remember him mentioning y'all a few times. Besides, I took a break for a while. He died while I was playing at having a real life."

"You took a break from hunting?"

"Yeah. Just for a couple of years. I was 26 and wanted to know what it was like to be normal. Now, at 31, I know normal is overrated."

"So normal wasn't good I take it?"

McKenzie hesitated and adjusted the air conditioner. "Not really, no."

She could feel Sam studying her, likely trying to determine whether he should press further.

"I did the normal thing for a while too. I do miss it sometimes, but…" He waved his hand around as he thought aloud.

"Hunting is what you know," McKenzie finished.

"Yeah." Sam agreed. "And Dean would never quit hunting."

McKenzie took his words in, tumbling them over in her head. She wondered what it would be like to have someone else always by her side. She wondered what it would be like to have that kind of trust in someone.

The car was quiet for a while as they pulled into town to solve their next case.


	4. Chapter 4

"A _what_ is in town?" McKenzie raised an eyebrow at the guy behind the motel check-in desk.

"A _farming_ convention. Annual thing so we get booked up pretty quick. So like I said, we just got the one room with two doubles." He leaned on the counter impatiently.

"Well, do you have a cot we could have?" Sam asked.

"Sorry. Last one got rented an hour ago." The guy shrugged.

"We'll take it." Dean handed over a card. It was obvious McKenzie was uncomfortable, but he didn't see any way around it. It was the only room anywhere in town and this case needed to get done.

Dean dropped his bag on the bed closest to the door. "No time like the present to start interviewing. Who wants what job?"

Sam tossed his bag next to Dean's. "McKenzie, you can take the other bed."

"Thanks," she nodded at him, setting her bag down on the other bed. "And I can do whatever. I'd like to get a look at the bodies though, if possible. Make sure what was reported matches."

"I can interview the victims' families. McKenzie, why don't you take Dean with you? He's actually kind of useful with cops."

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam. "Gee, thanks, Sammy."

"It's a compliment, dude."

"Do we have time to shower? I don't think anyone will believe I'm FBI the way I look right now." McKenzie lifted a few strands of her hair.

Dean smirked, "I didn't think female FBI agents were supposed to look good."

McKenzie frowned at him, "You want information or do you wanna perpetuate stereotypes?"

"Fine, go shower." Dean plopped down on the bed and leaned back, flipping on the TV with the remote that had been sitting on the nightstand.

McKenzie grabbed a few things from her bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

Dean had settled on one of the _Lethal Weapons_ by the time McKenzie exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam. He glanced up at her and was surprised to see her wrapped in a towel.

"Forgot a couple of things," she said sheepishly.

He watched her rummage through her bag and pull out a pair of red panties. Clasped tightly, she turned and hurried back into the bathroom, but not before he got a look at where the towel dipped against her back.

The tattoo he'd seen a hint of earlier showed in whole now, revealing a series of Celtic knots. But it wasn't the Celtic knots that held his attention. It was a series of scars that lined the middle of her back.

The morgue had already released the first body, but Dean and McKenzie were able to see the three most recent bodies. They agreed that it was definitely bees and suffocation that took out the last two, but even the guy showing them the bodies had no idea what the holes were in the second body.

"There are strange angles on these holes. And they don't look like knife wounds." The mortician shrugged. "Never seen anything like it."

Dean tilted his head to try to get a better look at the holes, and in doing saw glimpsed something in one of the holes closest to McKenzie.

"Was there anything found by the body? Anything that might have caused this?" McKenzie asked.

Dean tried to catch McKenzie's eye to signal to her.

"No. Not a thing. Window was broken though so whoever did it probably took the murder weapon with 'em."

As the mortician was distracted by McKenzie's low-cut shirt, Dean managed to get her attention, motioning down to the wound near her.

"Well…" McKenzie turned quickly to the mortician, "Jeff, was it? Thank you so much for all of this." She put her hand on his arm and pivoted away from the body, Jeff following her motion. As she walked away with him, talking about how there were so many great guys working in morgues, she waved at Dean with her other hand, signaling for him to do what was needed while Jeff was distracted.

He leaned over the body carefully, thankful he was still wearing gloves. Without thinking twice, he plucked the object from the wound and took off the glove so it folded around the mystery item. He tucked both into his pocket and then joined McKenzie and Jeff, tossing the remaining glove into the trash can on the way out.

"A feather?" Sam wrinkled his forehead. "Why would there be a feather in her body?"

"Not a damn clue," said McKenzie.

"Not like some vultures came for her or anything." Dean grunted, sipping a beer.

"Wait." McKenzie held up a hand. "Do you think those holes could've been made by bird beaks?"

"Like, she was pecked to death?" Sam asked.

"Exactly."

Dean and Sam shared a glance.

"Like… Hitchcock?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"What do all four deaths have in common?" McKenzie stood from her bed and started pacing.

"Uh… they are really random?" Dean asked.

"They're all things people are scared of," said Sam.

"That's what I'm thinking. They're all phobias. The guy who got crushed to death – maybe he was scared of falling from heights. The girl with the holes – maybe she was scared of birds. The girl with the bee stings… and then that guy who was suffocated? He could've been claustrophobic."

"So what could cause people to die from their worst fear?" Dean finished off his beer and opened another.

"That's what we need to figure out next." McKenzie frowned at them and sighed. "I guess it's back to the books."


	5. Chapter 5

"I think I finally have our connection." Dean tossed his suit jacket on the bed.

"Yeah? What is it?" McKenzie glanced up from her iPad where she was researching traumatic deaths in the area.

"They all frequented this one club." Sam held out a matchbook.

"There's a club in this town?" McKenzie raised her eyebrows in surprise as she accepted the matchbook from Sam. "The Ruby Slipper?"

"We think it's a reference to _Wizard of Oz._ " Sam shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess if you're going to a dance club in this town, you wanna pretend you aren't in Kansas anymore." McKenzie tossed her iPad onto the bed. "So what time do they open?" She started to paw through her bag for something club-worthy.

"They open at nine. But do we want to go in without trying to go by there first?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged, "Might as well see what we can find while the club is open. If we come up with nothing, then we'll swing by there tomorrow in FBI gear." He pulled the tie off his neck from his earlier visit with one of the other victims' boyfriends.

"Sounds good to me." McKenzie grabbed a few things from her bag and vanished into the bathroom. She changed quickly into a pair of skinny jeans and a black top that she knew made her look slimmer than she was. She'd picked up quite a few guys – and a few girls – in that outfit.

McKenzie studied herself in the mirror after a few touch ups on her make-up, and the addition of a deep brown eyeshadow and a dark red lipstick. Curling a few strands of her hair so they fell loosely around her breasts, she smirked at herself, pleased with the result. The heels were the crowning jewel – making her butt look rounder and her boobs perk up from the forced stature.

"Alright, boys. Who's ready to go dancing?" McKenzie sauntered out of the bathroom, enjoying the stares from the Winchester brothers.

"Heels? This is still a hunt," said Dean.

McKenzie shrugged. "They come off easily if I need to run. And the heels are useful for extra painful kicks."

"Okay, then."

Sam broke in, "We're good to go too. Right, Dean?"

Dean flicked his eyes down to the jeans and plaid shirt he had changed into. "Yup. We're good."

The club wasn't too dead considering the size of the town. Dean wrinkled his nose at the music the DJ was playing – one of those new rap artists whose names probably consisted of some symbols and numbers. He peered over at McKenzie who was bouncing to the music as they walked toward the bar. Her boobs were moving with the rhythm, and he found himself having to tear his eyes away from her.

Dean leaned against the bar and ordered a whiskey which he promptly started sipping once it arrived. Normally he would've downed it and ordered another, particularly with this music drumming through his skull, but he wanted to stay focused on the job.

Next to him, McKenzie ordered a tequila shot and quickly knocked it back, turning down the chaser the bartender offered.

"You trying to get shitfaced so soon?" Dean asked.

McKenzie let out a loud laugh. "One tequila shot is not going to get me anywhere close to shitfaced. I could probably drink you under the table, Winchester."

"Now _that_ I doubt." Dean took another swallow of his drink.

"Oh, sweetie. We probably both drink more than the average human, and frankly, we probably weigh about the same. That's the thing with fat chicks who drink on the regular, Dean. It takes more to get through this." McKenzie tapped her stomach, but Dean was caught up on her use of 'fat chicks.' He'd never heard a woman call herself fat so nonchalantly.

Before he could mention it, she ordered a Long Island and winked at Dean, turning away so it didn't look like they were there together.

"Anything yet?" Sam came up next to Dean.

"Other than McKenzie challenging me to a drink-off, not really." Dean finished the whiskey and motioned to the bartender for another.

"She challenged you to a drink off? On a hunt?"

"Well, not really. But she implied it for later." Dean grabbed the new whiskey and turned away to look over the crowd. "Anything come up on the reading?"

Sam patted his pocket where he had the EMF reader. "Nope. I'm hoping maybe later something will set it off. We may have to be here til last call though."

Dean shrugged. "Fine with me."

Three hours later, Dean was flirting with one of the waitresses, Sam had turned down two random women, and McKenzie was dancing with a guy who had bought her another tequila shot.

McKenzie had been enjoying her time with… Mark? Matt? Whatever his name was, he knew how to get down on the dance floor and enjoyed good tequila. If she hadn't been on a case, she'd consider going home with him.

"I'm gonna get another shot! You want!?" He shouted to her over the music, close to her ear.

McKenzie nodded in response and followed him to the bar.

While she waited, Sam came up next to her.

"It's almost 1:30. We've got nothing. I'm probably gonna head back to the hotel and try to swing by tomorrow before they open. Are you staying here with… what's-his-face?"

McKenzie nodded and leaned into his ear, "Yeah, I may or may not need that extra bed tonight. Though right now I don't know if Dean will need his bed either." She pointed to where Dean was making out with the now-off-shift waitress.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Yeah as soon as I told him I was headed out, he took it to mean that he was free to do whatever."

"Or whomever," McKenzie laughed.

Sam laughed with her. "Here's my cell in case something comes up." He slipped her a piece of paper which she tucked into her jeans. "Night."

McKenzie waved and turned back to her dancing pal who was holding two shot glasses and glaring at Sam's back.

"Seriously? I'm buying you shots all night and you take some other guy's number?"

McKenzie's smile faltered and she felt panic rise in her chest. "He's just a friend I haven't seen in a long time. We were just catching up."

"Like I'm gonna buy that," he growled.

McKenzie started to back up. "Maybe I should go."

"Hey, you fat bitch, I didn't say you could go anywhere. Not after I spent fifty bucks on your drinks tonight!"

"Here, I'm sure I've got some cash on me. It might not be fifty, but…" McKenzie dug into her pocket, feeling for her cash.

"You don't owe him shit, Kenzie."

McKenzie looked up confused to find Dean next to her.

"Stay outta his, man."

Dean shook his head. "Here's how this is gonna go. You're gonna apologize for calling her fat and a bitch, and you're gonna cut your losses and walk away."

He laughed at Dean and after a moment, threw the shot glasses at him and then moved to punch.

Dean easily dodged the glasses as they landed behind him on the floor, clear alcohol spilling into puddles. The punch landed, but only slightly, gliding off his jaw.

Those around them parted quickly as Dean easily took the other man down, in part because of his hunting experience and because he wasn't as drunk as McKenzie's dance partner.

Dean grabbed McKenzie's arm as the bouncers headed in, and the two weaved their way out into the humid night air.

"Hey, thanks for –"

"You hunt all kinds of crazy ass things that most people think are stupid horror plots, but twice now you've almost been taken down by some random drunk guy." Dean interrupted. "How the hell does that work?"

McKenzie swallowed her sentence and looked away from Dean, trying to focus on anything that wasn't him and wasn't this conversation. She blinked a few times and looked back, shrugging. "Just my luck, I guess."

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, clearly considering her answer. "Your luck is the reason you can hunt alone, but can't take out idiot men?"

"Humans are different than monsters." McKenzie defended.

"No. They aren't."

And as much as McKenzie wanted to disagree with Dean, she knew she couldn't.


	6. Chapter 6

McKenzie awoke the next morning with a sense of panic she couldn't explain. She felt as if she were back in Clay's bedroom, waiting to receive a punishment. She felt the weight of him pressed against her, the ghost of the fear holding her down under the sheet which had become wrapped around her body.

From her bed, she could tell Dean was still asleep and Sam not in the room or bathroom; likely he was out jogging. She untangled herself from the sheet, but remained in bed, staring at the ceiling. It had been several months, maybe almost a year, since panic had settled in to her chest like this.

Vivid memories of her time with Clay were easy to recall if she thought about it, but the panic had dwindled. Hunting had helped. When you were busy worrying about your life because of a vampire or a demon, the panic that had resided within for so long took a backseat. The weight of the past lessened and hid, not gone from the body entirely, but hidden well enough that the days were easier, and the nights were almost relaxing.

The door opened and Sam strolled in, a bit damp from sweat. "Oh, hey. Morning."

"Yeah. Morning." McKenzie pulled herself from the bed and grabbed a few things from her bag. She already knew this was going to be a crappy hunt.

Dean woke up feeling crappier than usual. He hadn't drank more than usual, and he didn't regret leaving that waitress. It was pretty clear she was married and he wasn't about to walk into that. But something was nagging at him.

McKenzie.

The guy from last night flooded back into his memory, and he found himself, once again, wondering why a strong hunter would become a weak little kid in the face of human men. All of the female hunters he knew would have happily punched a guy for calling them a fat bitch. McKenzie had confused him since the day they ran into each other, and he had a feeling that was going to continue.

"Dean, get your ass up. We need to go by the club and it says they open for dinner specials at five. I wanna get there before they open so we'll have their full attention." Sam was pulling on a fresh shirt, his just-washed hair still dangling over his forehead. Dean sometimes wondered why his brother felt this need to have 90's sitcom hair.

"Alright, alright." Dean crawled out of the bed. "I'd get better sleep if I weren't sharing a bed with the Jolly Green Giant."

"Har har," Sam replied.

Dean was buttoning his pants when McKenzie came out of the bathroom. Despite having just showered and woken, she looked tired, with deep circles under her eyes. He wondered if that had anything to do with the previous night.

McKenzie glanced over at him and nodded in greeting briefly before reaching for her shoes.

It took every ounce of him not to stare at her. He'd only known her a couple of days, but she seemed quieter than she had been thus far. Had he said something to her last night? He recalled telling her that humans were monsters too. Was there something he'd forgotten about?

"So, McKenzie, Dean and I will be the lead agents and you'll be the agent in training." Sam pulled on his jacket.

"Why do I have to be in training?"

"Cuz you're the youngest," Dean chimed in, pulling on his own suit jacket.

McKenzie scoffed and slipped on the black pumps in her hand. "Fine."

The panic that McKenzie had first felt upon waking had waned, but returned full force when their trio entered the club, shown in by an arriving employee.

"Hey, Burt!" The employee yelled towards the back. "Got some agents up here to see ya!" He turned to the three, "He should be up in a second. I gotta get to work."

McKenzie glanced around at the empty room. The atmosphere was almost creepy without a small crowd of dancing, half-drunk patrons. She shivered despite the stuffiness of the bar.

A muscular man with a shaved head sauntered in from a swinging door, which revealed a quick glimpse at a small kitchen.

"Yeah, I'm Burt. Whatdya need?"

"Burt, Agents Elliot and Savage, and Agent-in-training Timberlake," Sam rattled off as he held up his badge. Dean shot McKenzie a quick eyeroll at her name.

"What do FBI agents want with a small town bar?" Burt crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl settling on his face.

"Your bar is connected to a string of murders in the area. Each one of the victims was a reported regular," said Dean.

"So what, you think one of my employees might be a murderer?"

McKenzie chimed in, "It's possible. Or there could be another connection, such as another regular customer."

Burt cocked his head and then smiled at McKenzie with a leering expression. "So you gonna be hanging around here for a while?"

McKenzie shivered at his tone, but Sam stepped in between them. "We need to speak with your employees. Now."

"Yeah, fine. Come on back." Burt waved them to the kitchen, where the three followed.


	7. Chapter 7

"Definitely haunted," McKenzie said as soon as they were in the Impala.

"Crazy haunted," Sam agreed.

"Guess I'm hittin up some more research." McKenzie glanced back at the bar with an uneasy look. The panic stilled remained settled over her. She took a few deep breaths to try to calm the feeling, but it did very little to help.

"I'll drop you both at the motel and go pick up some grub. I'm starving," Dean chimed in as the car paused at a red light.

"Gee, shocking." Sam's voice oozed sarcasm.

"Well, I guess no food for you then," Dean mocked.

McKenzie, however, had tuned out. She was too busy staring at a figure at the street corner. A figure who was grinning and waving at her through the window.

"How did we miss this?" Sam lamented. "A body found at the bar a decade ago?"

McKenzie struggled to focus, her mind reeling back to an hour before when she'd witnessed her past coming back to haunt her.

"What?" she said weakly.

"A body… at the bar?" Sam repeated. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

He eyed her but continued, "I guess it's because they changed their name shortly after that. Probably too much bad press."

"Makes sense," McKenzie answered, only paying half attention.

A sudden knock at the door startled her, but Sam simply stood and crossed to the door, looking out the peephole.

"You forget the key again?" Sam opened the door for Dean.

Dean shrugged. "Maybe."

McKenzie gasped, glimpsing the same man standing behind Dean in the door.

"Quick! Shut the door!" She jumped from the bed, tossing her iPad onto the comforter.

"What? Why?" Dean almost leapt into the room, looking around him.

McKenzie shoved past them and slammed the door closed.

"McKenzie, what's wrong?" Sam peeked out through the peephole again. "No one's there."

She moved around Sam and looked out of the peephole. He stood there, grinning and then winked as if knowing she was looking at him.

"What are you talking about? He's literally right outside the door." McKenzie was sure she sounded hysterical, but at the moment she didn't care.

Sam and Dean shared a glance, and Sam moved to take McKenzie's arm. "McKenzie, no one is outside. Come on, let's look together…"

"NO!" She shoved him away and barricaded the door with her body.

"Okay, okay, we don't have to look outside. Why don't we look the chain and go over to the bed?" Sam led her away as Dean chained the door.

"Who is it that's out there?" Dean asked.

McKenzie lowered herself slowly to the bed, focusing on the hem of her shirt. "His name is Clay."

"Okay. And who is Clay?" Sam prodded.

She could feel the panic striking at her. Her voice was quiet. "My ex."

Though she was playing with her shirt, she knew Dean and Sam were exchanging silent expressions.

"McKenzie-" Sam started.

"I don't wanna talk about it." She interrupted.

"Well, hate to break it to ya, sweetheart, but we can't help if we don't know what we're looking at here." Dean sounded annoyed, but McKenzie didn't quite care.

"It's none of your fucking business, Winchester," McKenzie snapped. But as she spoke she was already beginning to see the images in her head. The bruises. Clay's hands coming at her. The blood.

She breathed deeply, trying to push the memories away.

"Dean, do you think this has something to do with the murders?" Sam's voice was quiet, but McKenzie still heard him.

"How on earth could this be related? My ex is here. That has nothing to do with the murders." McKenzie closed her eyes for a moment, but quickly forced them open after the images grew worse.

"Um, McKenzie… Clay isn't really outside. No one was there." Sam's voice was gentle.

McKenzie tried to absorb the information. "He…wasn't? But…but I saw him! I saw him earlier too, right after we left the bar!"

"Sounds about right then." Dean nodded.

"This kind of reminds me of that time you got the ghost sickness. Except instead of being afraid of everything, they just think their worst fear is coming after them." Sam considered aloud.

"Yeah, and their worst fear is actually killing them," said Dean, looking at a trembling McKenzie.

"So the girl who was found dead at the bar is infecting them. What do the autopsy reports say?" Dean asked, leaning over the reports they'd gotten after visiting the local station in their FBI gear.

"Looks like she was choked to death, but according to this she was beaten up pretty badly beforehand."

"And they never caught her killer according to this. They suspected the owner, some guy named Jeff Dawes."

"I already looked him up. He's been dead for about 8 years." Sam browsed through the file, checking to see if he missed anything. "Hey, look at this!"

Dean took the paper from Sam and read. "Interviewed bartender… Burt? So our current owner was the bartender back then. Coincidence?"

"Doubtful," Sam answered. He looked over at McKenzie, who'd taken a valium from her bag and was now sleeping, though somewhat restlessly.

She whimpered in her sleep and thrashed a bit before settling down.

"I say one of us goes to reinterview our friend Burt, while the other stays here with McKenzie." Sam suggested.

Dean nodded and stood. "I got Burt."

Sam watched McKenzie start to thrash around again, mumbling incoherently. He considered whether it would be better to wake her up or let her sleep. They still weren't sure what exactly was killing from the club, so it was impossible to know if she'd be safer asleep or awake. Or if it really mattered either way.

Her mumbling grew louder, and Sam was able to make out some of what she said.

"Sorry…please." McKenzie cried out in her sleep, which was enough to move Sam over to her.

"McKenzie, wake up!" Sam shook her gently, trying not to startle her.

"I'm sorry!" McKenzie shouted, scrambling away from Sam towards the end of the bed. She curled into a ball, "Please not again. I'm sorry. Just…please." Her sobs overtook her as the begging became nonsensical.

"McKenzie. McKenzie!" Sam moved forward on the bed and reached out to her, but she smacked his hand away. "McKenzie, it's Sam. You're safe! It's okay!"

McKenzie quieted, still crying, and looked up with confused eyes. "Sam?"

"Yeah, just…Sam."

She sat up, breathing deeply and wiping tears from her cheeks.

"Your ex… that you've been seeing…" Sam paused. "Is that who you're dreaming about?"

There was silence for a long while before she nodded.

"He's your biggest fear?" Sam asked.

He didn't need her to answer. It was already obvious.

But what wasn't as obvious was the hand-shaped bruise that was appearing on McKenzie's arm.


	8. Chapter 8

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Physical, verbal and sexual abuse.

McKenzie had calmed down by the time Dean was back.

"Well, it's definitely him." Dean slung his jacket over the edge of the bed.

"How do ya' know?" Sam asked.

"He ran as soon as I started questioning him."

"He withstood questioning from the police once before, but now he just ran?" Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"I may have used a bit of force." Dean shrugged. "How is she?" He nodded over to where McKenzie was curled up, her knees against her chest, watching a Disney movie on TV.

Sam sighed and lowered his voice. "Getting worse, I think. She's okay right now, but you should've seen her earlier." After McKenzie had realized it was just Sam and not Clay, he'd asked her about her past. She'd just shaken her head at him, refusing to answer.

"Is she still seeing… what's-his-face?" Dean took a sip from his flask, grimacing at the cheap whisky.

"As far as I know, I don't think so. But she was having vivid nightmares. Took her a while to wake up from it and remember where she was."

"I saw him when I first woke up," McKenzie chimed in.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, "I didn't realize that."

"It was only for a minute. It was you, but you looked like him." She looked away from the TV and over at the brothers.

"So, what, the nightmare played tricks on you and it made you think Sam was someone else. Not unusual." Dean shrugged.

McKenzie scowled at him. "No, this wasn't just a mistaken identity issue in the heat of a nightmare. He looked like Clay, sounded like him, even _smelled_ like him. Sam, what were you saying to me when I first woke up?"

"Uh," Sam thought back, "Just calling your name and telling you it was me."

She shook her head. "He was actually talking to me. His voice. Old things he used to say. It was much worse than confusion after a nightmare. Something had me truly believing it was him."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, clearly worried.

"Would you two stop doing that?" McKenzie ordered.

"Doing what?" Dean held his hands up defensively.

"Looking at each other like you're silently sharing the secret to life," McKenzie grumbled. "Or like I'm some experiment you're comparing notes about."

"Sorry. We'll try not to," Sam apologized.

"Can we focus less on not offending you, and more on trying to save your ass, please?" Dean growled. "Now we at least have some idea of what's going on. Is this chick buried somewhere nearby so we can do some burning and get this over with?"

"Well, I got some bad news on that front." Sam started.

"Let me guess," Dean interrupted. "She was cremated?"

"Actually… no. But her body did disappear from the morgue before it could be released to family."

"It did what now?" Dean unscrewed his flask and took another sip.

McKenzie let out a whimper. "You mean this may not end?" She laughed bitterly and stood, making for the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" Dean asked.

"I'm gonna find our friend Burt. I have a feeling he knows something about that girl's body." She grabbed her keys from the table next to the door.

"Whoa, McKenzie, I don't think it's a good idea for you to go out right now." Sam stood, joining Dean a couple of feet from her.

"Look, either come with or shut up and let me go. Cuz I'm over seeing this asshole." She crossed her arms over her chest, her right hip thrust out revealing her impatience.

Dean and Sam glanced over at each other again. Dean grabbed his jacket and Sam flung a flannel over his thin shirt.

McKenzie was halfway out the door. "And I told you to stop looking at each other like that!"

Burt was apparently not the brightest. He'd only gone so far as his apartment.

"I—I don't know where the body is, I swear!" Burt was also easy to crack. McKenzie had him shoved into a wall, her pistol aimed close range at his forehead.

"Wrong answer. Try again." McKenzie tightened her grip, pushing into him further.

"McKenzie, he may be telling the truth…" Sam stood to her right.

"Yeah, yeah, I am!" Burt half sobbed.

McKenzie sized him up and glanced at Dean. "Your thoughts?"

Dean shrugged. "It's possible. But I think he knows more than he's letting on."

There was a pause as McKenzie stared at Burt, narrowing her eyes. "I'm going to let you go, but I'll still have my gun."

Burt nodded desperately, breathing a sigh of relief when McKenzie released him.

"What else do you know?" Dean stepped closer to McKenzie.

Burt rubbed his chest, his breath heaving. "A friend worked for the morgue. He owed me a lot of money from poker, so he snuck the body out. It was before they had cameras."

"Where is this friend?" Sam leaned forward.

"Dead. Three years ago. Car accident after a night of partying." Burt looked from McKenzie to the brothers. "Why? Why do you need her body? I… I'll confess. Just… just let me go."

McKenzie rolled her eyes, "Sweetie, if you're lucky you'll still be alive to confess."

"I thought you weren't gonna kill me?"

"We're not. But your murder victim might." Dean chimed in.

"What? How can a dead girl kill me?" Burt's eyes flicked between the trio. "Are you guys crazy?"

"I might be," McKenzie muttered. She was looking back towards the apartment door, eyes wide.

"McKenzie, what do you see?" Sam placed a hand on her back, but she wrenched away.

"We need to find that body." McKenzie's voice shook as she closed her eyes, trying to rid herself of the image of Clay.

"This is the only place I can think that Al would've gone." Burt nodded towards a wooded area several hundred yards behind a camping lodge. "They already suspected me, but no one knew that Al owed me money. And we weren't generally friendly."

Dean motioned with his gun for Burt to walk in front of them. The guy was scared shitless of them, but it never hurt to have the murderer go first.

As they walked, it was clear McKenzie was becoming spooked. She flinched every couple of minutes, as if something were following them. Dean's anger grew after McKenzie ducked behind a tree for a moment, before coming out sheepishly and continuing on behind the others.

"So, what? This girl just pissed you off so you killed her? Just beat her to death and then strangled her like she was nothing?" Dean waved his arm for emphasis.

"I've changed, man. I was an alcoholic back then and on and off heroin. I'm clean now. Haven't touched the stuff in years." Burt stumbled over a root as his voice cracked.

"You own a bar," said Dean.

"Yeah, but I only serve. I don't drink it. It's good money."

From behind them, McKenzie whimpered.

"You good, Kenzie?" Dean called back to her, keeping his eyes on Burt.

"Ye-" Her voice choked for a second. "Yeah. I'm good."

He had to admire her. Even though whatever she kept seeing was scaring her senseless, she was still trekking through these woods behind them. Still determined to end this haunting.

Burt slowed. "This is the end of the property line. All I know is that he buried it on state property. Which starts there." Burt pointed to the ground just in front of him.

Dean skimmed the ground, which was covered in brush, branches and a myriad of plants. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Heads up," Sam tossed Dean a shovel, and then tossed a second shovel to Burt.

It had been hours, and Clay was appearing to McKenzie almost constantly. She had talked Sam into letting her shovel for a while, hoping it would distract her, but that had made Clay get further into her face.

Now she was crouched on a tree stump, struggling to remember that Clay wasn't really standing next to her, berating her like she was back in the tiny house they'd lived in. The others were shoveling as fast as they could, looking for any dirt that even kind of looked like it had been cleared at one point.

"Are you sleeping with them, whore?" Clay gestured towards Dean and Sam.

"Not real…not real…not real…" McKenzie kept whispering, ignoring the fact that it was the first time he had started referencing Dean and Sam.

Clay crouched next to her, an overpowering smell of Yuengling and cigarettes assaulting her. His hand grasped her upper arm tightly, squeezing while she attempted to shake free of the hallucination.

He shoved her off the tree stump onto the ground and grabbed her forcefully by the hair, climbing on top of her.

"Stop. Stop, please." McKenzie could see Sam, but his presence didn't stop the neckline on her shirt from being ripped as Clay yanked on it.

Sam tried to pull McKenzie up and into his arms for shelter, but he was knocked backwards. McKenzie watched Clay push into Sam as if Sam were air.

"McKenzie! Try to get away! Dean thinks he's found the girl!" Sam called.

McKenzie turned and tried to crawl, but was immediately pulled back by Clay who kicked her twice in the ribs. The second time she heard and felt a crack, but didn't have time to consider the pain as Clay flipped her over and thrust his weight upon her.

She punched at him blindly. The pain from her ribs made the punches awkward, but she was beyond caring.

"KENZIE! STOP!" Dean bellowed, ducking her punches.

McKenzie halted the attack, her breathing rapid and uneven. "D-Dean?"

"It's okay. It's over."

She turned her head quickly all around her, searching for Clay. "He's… He's gone."

"Yeah, but now we need to fix you up." Dean motioned down at her body.

Her shirt was ripped even further across, blood covered part of her side, and there were bruises everywhere. The loss of adrenaline moved the pain in her ribs to the forefront and McKenzie doubled over in pain.

"Come on," Dean said, picking her up. "Let's drop this guy off at the police station and bandage you up."

But McKenzie had already passed out in his arms.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean studied McKenzie's sleeping form. They'd managed to get ahold of Cas to come and heal her so the bruises and cuts were gone, but every once in a while she would whimper or moan in her sleep.

McKenzie had held out longer than he'd expected before she'd been unable to do anything other than stay curled in a ball. She'd even dug a few holes, though occasionally she swung the shovel out at nothing, muttering that her ex was right in front of her.

It made Dean wonder about McKenzie's life before they'd met her. They only knew that she'd been a hunter and had known Bobby. Nightmares sort of came with the job, but these seemed different. He'd asked Sam about doing a search for her ex to see if they could figure something out, but without a last name, or even a town where they'd lived together, Sam didn't know where to start.

"We should probably grab some shut eye." Sam interrupted Dean's thoughts.

Dean nodded, finishing off the beer in his hand. "Do you think it's better for one of us to sleep next to her, or give her some space?"

Sam looked up from his bag with a surprised look, but covered it quickly. "Uh, probably some space."

"Don't be too surprised. I get what happened to her. I doubt she's gonna want to wake up next to a guy she's known for less than a week." Dean tossed the bottle into the tiny trash can before stripping off his shirt. "I just don't get why a hunter would stay with an abusive douche."

"A hunter desperate for a normal life? What's not to get?" Sam shrugged, pulling on his sweatpants. "Besides, we save people. She probably thought she could save him."

"From being a jackass? Doubtful." Dean climbed into bed and pulled the sheet up over him. "Don't hog the covers." With that, he turned out the light, still staring at the huddled woman in the next bed.

McKenzie woke early, jarred by a dream of Clay and some of his drinking buddies. She shivered despite the warmth of the room and pushed aside the sheets and blanket. The wounds she'd expected to have were no longer there. She was sore, but nothing was broken.

Thinking back to the night before, she remembered whispers of a conversation between the brothers and one other who had joined them.

The brothers were both still asleep in the other bed, most of the covers pulled towards Sam so that one of Dean's bare legs was sticking out. McKenzie giggled at the sight, but sobered quickly, the memory of the previous night pushing into her mind.

She'd relived everything Clay had put her through. The belitting, the physical punishments, the sexual blackmail… McKenzie breathed deeply to attempt to dismiss the memories.

Coffee. Replace the memories with simple tasks. It was something she'd read about in a self-help book. Therapists were hard to come by when you were constantly traveling, so she'd done a lot of her own therapy. It helped when after a while you were too busy focusing on the things that went bump in the night. At least the things that _could_ be fought.

Coffee and donuts. Coffee, donuts, and alcohol. Cigarettes.

First: fresh clothes. Check.

Second: wash face, brush hair. Check.

Third: car keys and wallet. Check.

She was going to be fine.

Fourth: light cigarette and climb in car. Check.

Fifth: find coffee and donuts.

Yes. Just fine.

Dean stirred at the smell of coffee and the sound of voices.

"Hey, wake up, sleepy head. I brought sustenance."

McKenzie.

Dean sat up, blinking. "What time is it?"

"I dunno, like 8? I needed coffee." She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee as if for emphasis.

She looked…calm. Not at all like she'd been attacked by the memory of an asshole ex the night before. Dean considered her for a minute, studying her. She was very subtly tapping her finger against her coffee cup, and her eyes darted around every few seconds. So not calm. Just very good at acting like it.

"Kenzie, you need to rest." Dean spoke as he reached towards the box of donuts which Sam held out to him. He took a chocolate glazed, relishing the smell and its freshness. "Where on earth did you find a Dunkin Donuts in this town?"

"Well, it was actually a couple towns over. But no big. I really wanted some good donuts. None of the crap they were selling in the gas station counted."

Sam and Dean shared a look. A couple towns over?

"What did I say about that?" McKenzie scolded. "It's like you think you're telekinetic or something."

"Force of habit. Sorry." Sam shrugged and grabbed his second donut from the box.

"Well, not really gonna matter much longer anyway. I'm gonna head out after I help you two finish off these donuts."

"Wait, what? Already?" Dean swallowed the last of his donut, wiping his hand on the bedsheet to brush off the leftover stickiness.

"Job's done. Need to move on."

"Actually, I think I found a job last night. I was hoping you'd be able to help." Sam finished off the jelly donut and cocked his head at McKenzie.

McKenzie's mask flickered for a moment, but was back in place before Dean could take in what had happened.

"Okay. What's the job?"

"Remind me again how stopping at your house is necessary for the job." McKenzie turned the volume down on her 98 Degrees CD and leaned out the car window to make sure Dean heard her. "And where _is_ your house anyway?"

"We need to pick up a few things for research first. And _our house_ is right back here. Sam just needed to make room in the garage for your car. Follow me." Dean turned his music back up and drove forward.

McKenzie muttered to herself mockingly, "Follow me. Great, it's probably some elaborate trap or something." She realized what she said, and stopped herself. "It's okay, it's just Sam and Dean. They aren't going to hurt you, Kenz." She took a few deep breaths, which almost halted as they drove into a garage filled with gorgeous cars.

As she parked, she finally allowed herself a moment to take in the classic cars around her. "Holy… are they secretly loaded?"

"Nice, huh?" Dean sauntered up to her car as she climbed out.

"Who didya rob to get all these?"

"No one. Apparently there used to be a group called the Men of Letters who focused on all sorts of supernatural crap. We're legacies."

"Sounds like the most fucked up frat ever." McKenzie tucked her cell phone into her pocket. "Alright, where are these research supplies? I wanna get back on the road ASAP."

"Oh, you might as well grab your stuff. Sam thinks we'll need to do some research here first before heading back out. Something about rare book, not leaving this bunker, blah blah so on." Dean shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"Uh huh." McKenzie felt a sudden unease, but shoved it back. _Dean and Sam. Good guys. This is not some crazy plan to trap you._ McKenzie kept running through the mantras in her head to calm her heart rate.

"This everything?" Dean raised her duffel bag, having gotten it from her passenger seat when she wasn't looking.

"Oh, no, I've got mo-" She cut herself off. "But yeah, that's all I've got with me." Her brain was so caught up trying to convince the rest of her body that Dean and Sam weren't out to get her that she'd misunderstood the question. Which reminded her. She needed to pay the yearly storage fee on her shed next month. Would probably be a good idea to head out that way and check on everything too.

McKenzie followed Dean into what she assumed was the 'bunker.' But what she found was not what she was expecting.

Even the tiling was nicer than anywhere she'd lived. " _This_ is a bunker?"

"Nice, isn't it?" Sam joined them, carrying a cup of coffee. "I made a full pot of coffee if you'd like some."

McKenzie simply nodded, walking through the rooms. "A library? A full freaking library?" She ran her hands over the books, the leather and sheepskin still in perfect condition.

"There are regular books on the other wall too. In case you get sick of reading about ghouls and the like." Sam motioned his coffee cup towards the far wall.

"Well, I doubt I'll have time for that," said McKenzie, but she was already browsing the selection.

"Bedrooms are this way." Dean interrupted her thoughts, leading her down a tiled hallway.

"This is mine." Dean's voice was clearly proud as he showed her his room, just a few possessions spread around.

"Nice," McKenzie said politely. It reminded her of what it was like to have a permanent home. The lavender paint that Clay had let her choose for the bedroom. The quilt on the bed had been faded and frayed on some edges, and the lamps didn't match, but the lavender made it feel complete.

"You can bunk in any of the others, but I'd suggest this one. It's closest to the other bathroom so you'll have one to yourself," Dean was saying, jarring her from her memory.

"Great. But hopefully not for too long though. Just long enough to get this research and be on the way." McKenzie prodded.

"Absolutely," Dean agreed before placing her bag on the bed. "If you wanna get cleaned up, the hot water lasts forever."

"Yeah. Yeah, a shower sounds good." But McKenzie was already considering how long she'd remain before she hightailed it out of the bunker and back on her own.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I have realized that the scene dividers aren't showing up for some reason. So from here on out I'll do something a bit more like *SUPERNATURAL* to show scene division.

Dean was right – the hot water did go on forever. After a solid half an hour under almost-scalding water, McKenzie climbed out of the shower in a poof of steam, toweled off, and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a Jurassic Park tee shirt.

She found the brothers in the library flipping through some of the old tomes.

"So what's the deal with this new case?" McKenzie flopped down into an armchair.

"Well, at the moment, we're torn between vindictive ghost, or witch, or… actual serial killer pulling a Scooby Doo." Sam looked up from the absurdly large book in front of him.

"Seriously?" McKenzie raised an eyebrow.

"Well, there are a bunch of similarities to ghosts, but then there's some weird…stuff. For instance, all of the killings have been brutal, and the killer left behind weird symbols in blood. Some of the symbols got leaked to the press, and they're legit. From what I can tell they're Norse and are attempting to bring about Ragnarok. No signs of forced entry at any of the murder victims' homes, where they were all found." Sam sipped at what looked like a glass of whiskey.

"So why a serial killer? And where can I get some of whatever it is you're drinking?"

"Well, the killer has been sloppy, leaving behind pieces of evidence that a demon or a witch wouldn't have. For instance, a hair tie, but the police found no DNA on it."

"Couldn't it have belonged to the victim?"

"He was bald."

"Victim's girlfriend?"

"And he was gay and dating another bald guy."

"Cheating on gay guy with a girl and he was actually bi?" McKenzie continued. "Bi is a thing, ya know." She rolled her eyes. "Cuz if you're not with both at the same time apparently you don't exist. Although, I feel bad implying he was bi and cheating. Like all of us are greedy or untrustworthy or something."

Sam paused. "I feel like this got suddenly personal."

McKenzie shrugged. "Yeah, sorry, go on."

"Whoa, whoa, back up," Dean interrupted. He carried a small glass of whiskey, his face showing sudden interest. "Back up to the 'all of us' part."

"What, I can't like girls?" McKenzie took the whiskey and gulped a bit, clearly relieved.

"Oh. No…no, I never said that."

Sam chimed in, "He thinks it's hot."

"Yeah you and about 5 million other guys," McKenzie scoffed. "Anyway, you were saying, Sam?" She tried to ignore the now-daydreamy stare of Dean, whom she figured was imagining choice scenarios in his head.

"Anyway, some of the other stuff just doesn't make sense. Like an empty insulin vial in a house of a victim who wasn't diabetic, and had just moved there so she didn't know anyone else who could've been diabetic."

"That is weird." McKenzie took a sip of the whiskey, and then immediately followed it with another sip.

"Yeah. I needed to check in on some of the symbols first, which I've done. But now I think we should have a game plan before we head in."

McKenzie narrowed her eyes. "From what I've heard of the Winchesters, it doesn't sound like y'all typically do the game plan first. What's different?"

Sam and Dean both looked away from McKenzie hinting something was wrong.

"What? What's the issue?"

"Well, we thought we should stay here for a while so you could rest." Sam cleared his throat nervously.

"Why do I need to rest?" McKenzie took another long sip of the whiskey. "I'm fine. You told me this morning that angel-guy healed me right?"

"Cas. And yeah, he did, but…" Sam hesitated.

"But you were having some pretty bad nightmares last night. We need you focused." Dean finished.

McKenzie raised an eyebrow at him coolly. "So y'all never have nightmares?"

"Well, yeah, of course…" Sam started.

"Then I don't see the issue." She finished off the whiskey in a fast gulp. "I think we should leave tomorrow."

"Can't leave tomorrow." Dean shook his head. "I have an oil change and some other minor tune ups to do on Baby."

"That's gonna take all day?"

"I need to go to the auto store, which is like 40 minutes from here. This case is easily a drive away."

"We could take my Mustang," McKenzie pointed out.

Dean scoffed. "No offense, but I don't leave Baby behind on hunts."

"Right. Whatever." McKenzie stood. "Fine, we'll leave day after tomorrow. In the meantime, do y'all have any food in this house? It's almost six and I could really use some dinner soon."

"I think there's some pasta? I'm not sure." Sam looked apologetic.

McKenzie pondered for a second. "Okay. I'll be back in a while. Where's the closest grocery store?"

Dean sniffed the air, realizing something was coming from the kitchen. And it smelled like…homemade food.

McKenzie leaned against the kitchen counter, a magazine in hand.

"Is that…food?" Dean cracked the oven door and peeked in hopefully.

"It is food, yes." McKenzie chuckled.

"All I see is foil. It smells like… something with marinara sauce?" Dean got excited.

"Chicken parm." Mckenzie provided. "I'm about to put the spaghetti on the stove."

"Oh, that sounds so good." Dean almost drooled.

"It should be okay." McKenzie pulled open a box of spaghetti and measured some out into a pot of water that was boiling on the stove.

"We never have homemade food." Dean peered at the pasta as it slowly started to soften in the water.

"I don't usually either, but kitchen's here. It just made sense." She opened her magazine back up and flipped to the next page. "I'll call you when it's done."

"Thanks," Dean replied. He glanced at her as he left the room. The edges of her hair with the purple and teal were falling into her face, and she was absorbed in the magazine. It didn't look like she'd just relived terrible memories. She looked calm and content in her reading.

It made him wonder if she was so used to the memories that they didn't affect her as much. Or if she was just used to pretending that they didn't.


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry it's been so long since I've posted. Been busy with wedding planning (2 weeks!), thesis writing, and teaching my kiddies.

TW: Mild warning for domestic abuse; cutting

The boys sat around the kitchen table with sleepy, but contented expressions. It made McKenzie smile, despite the exhaustion that weighed her down.

"Mckenzie, we may have to just hire you on to cook for us," Sam said.

"It was okay. Nothing special." McKenzie shrugged.

"Nothing special?" Sam shook his head.

"Sweetheart, I haven't had anything that good in a long while." Dean leaned back in his chair. "That was right up there with a bacon cheeseburger."

"And coming from him, that's high praise."

"Well, thanks. If I get lucky, we'll have a good dinner tomorrow night." McKenzie tapped her fingers on her water glass.

"I doubt that's gonna be a matter of luck," Sam said, reaching for the last slice of garlic bread.

"Hey, I was gonna eat that." Dean furrowed his eyebrows at Sam, who in turn rolled his eyes and broke the bread slice in half.

McKenzie was only half paying attention, though. She wasn't used to receiving praise for her cooking. Clay had always found some fault with something. Her wrist ached lightly as she remembered the time she'd forgotten he hated Cilantro. Burns were one pain she couldn't deal with, and even now she could feel the fresh sting of the boiling hot water on her skin.

She rubbed her wrist and stood, lifting her plate and glass from the table.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Sam asked through a mouthful of bread.

"Cleaning up."

Dean stood, swallowing his half of the bread slice. "Nope, we got it. You cooked, we clean. Why don't you go put in a movie or something? No chick flicks though."

Sam followed suit, standing, and then taking the plate and glass from McKenzie's hands.

McKenzie let out a short laugh. "Y'all continue to spoil me like this and I might _let_ you hire me as a cook."

~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie was curled up with a pint of Ben and Jerry's Pistachio Pistachio she'd picked up from the store earlier. Netflix shown from her iPad, her earbuds in so she didn't disturb Sam's reading. She knew Sam was going to try to stay up til she went to bed, but McKenzie had no plans to go to bed. Things waited for her in her sleep, and she wasn't ready to face them.

Dean appeared in her peripheral vision, waving to get her attention.

"Yeah?" McKenzie removed one earbud.

"I'm forcing Sam to go get sleep, so I'm forcing you to do the same."

McKenzie raised an eyebrow at him. "It's only like…" she paused to look at her watch and then hesitated when she realized it was almost two am. "Eh, it's not even two yet."

Dean raised an eyebrow at her. "It will be in about 5 minutes and you need sleep. Even if we aren't headed out tomorrow, you aren't gonna recover from staying up half the night tonight and then trying to get a couple hours tomorrow night."

McKenzie knew Dean had a point. And she also knew Dean was only saying all of this because the boys were concerned about her. They'd been shooting her surreptitious looks whenever they thought she wasn't looking. But she didn't want their concern, and she definitely didn't want their pity. Pity was not a valuable commodity in the hunter world. It meant other hunters didn't trust you to do your job. In case her gender wasn't a big enough hindrance, pity just upped the ante.

"Why do I feel like I should be calling bullshit on you right now?" McKenzie tried to avoid admitting that he was right.

Sam chuckled. "Technically Dean has had his fair share of late nights, but he's gotten better in the last few years. And he does have a point."

McKenzie glanced from one to the other and knew they weren't going to let up. Well, fine. She'd just watch her iPad in her room then.

"How about you leave your iPad in here? I find if I don't bring that stuff with me, I'm less likely to get distracted by them." Dean grinned at her as if he had read her mind.

Bastard.

"Yeah, good idea." She set the iPad on the sidetable next to the overstuffed chair, picking up the book she'd pulled from a shelf earlier. She'd probably regret it. Likely reading would slowly lull her to sleep, but it was better than simply lying in bed all night.

At the very least, she was a couple of doors down from Dean. Maybe the walls were really thick…

*~*SUPERNATURAL*~*

Dean wandered down the hall towards the bathroom. He knew he was getting old when he found himself waking up at least once during the night to pee. Rolling his eyes, he flipped on the light, wincing at the sudden brightness.

Just after flushing the toilet, he almost walked away with the seat still up, but remembered McKenzie was there. Closing the toilet lid he smiled at himself proudly in the mirror.

Walking back in the dark hall proved to be harder, now that his eyes had adjusted to light. He stubbed his toe on a plant that Sam insisted be put in the hall "for decoration." He cursed quietly, stumbling to the side.

"Tomorrow, I turn that thing into confetti," he grumbled.

His complaints stopped when he heard a shout from McKenzie's room.

"Kenzie?" He slammed the door open and rushed forward. "What's wrong?" He looked around wildly. Had Cas popped in and scared her?

The room was dark, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

McKenzie sat upright, her breath coming in heavy bursts.

"Hey, hey, what? What is it?" Dean came to a halt awkwardly at the side of her bed.

She took a few deep breaths, holding up her index finger. "Sso-sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Nightmare?" Dean ignored the urge to climb into the bed and hug her.

"Yeah. I guess. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." McKenzie pulled the covers closer to her, covering up the tight tank top she wore.

"Oh, it's fine. I was already up." Dean motioned his head sideways. "Bathroom."

"Ah."

The two fell silent, both trying to consider what else to say.

"If you need to… ya know… talk to someone…" Dean waved his hand without finishing.

"Oh, no. No, I'm good, thanks." McKenzie shifted under the blanket.

Dean nodded, and made for the door. "Okay, well, uh…just knock on my door if you need anything."

He waited only long enough for her to agree, and then he closed the door behind him, feeling guilty for his arousal at the thought of how tight her shirt was, pushing her breasts up so they almost spilled out. She was terrified from a nightmare, and he was thinking about her chest.

Dean shook his head. Sam was right. He really was a jerk.

~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*

McKenzie sipped at her coffee, the warmth and flavor easing her for the moment. After Dean had left her room the night before, she'd snuck out into the library and watched scary movies on Netflix in a crazed attempt to keep herself awake. It had worked, but that meant she'd only had about three hours of sleep the entire night.

"Morning. Sleep well?" Sam poured himself a cup from the second pot of coffee she'd made in the last three hours.

Obviously he hadn't spoken with Dean yet. "Yeah, not terrible." She changed the subject quickly. "While we're hanging out here for the day, do y'all have somewhere to practice shooting?"

"Yeah, we have a range set up nearby. I can take you up in a bit."

"That'd be great, thanks." If she was gonna be stuck here for another day, it made sense to at least get some of her frustration out.

"Oh, coffee. Already made." Dean shuffled in, his hair rumpled in a way that made McKenzie's heart shift.

"What do you mean 'already made'? I almost always make the coffee." Sam protested.

Dean made a noise of derision and sipped at his steaming cup. He let out a moan of pleasure at the taste.

"Oh, good grief," Sam chided, rolling his eyes. "Drama queen."

McKenzie giggled at the exchange before halting herself. It was dangerous to get used to this.

"Sam said he'd take me up to y'all's shooting range today. Might as well keep in practice while you work on your car."

Dean nodded, gulping another swallow of coffee. "I might join you later if I get Baby fixed up quickly. We could also do some sparring. Exercise might wear you out and help you sleep better."

"Sleep better? I thought you said you slept fine." Sam raised an eyebrow at her.

"I believe my words were 'not terrible', actually." McKenzie shot a dirty look at Dean.

"Could Cas help? He might be able to take some of the memories –"

"I'm fine. I don't need an angel poking around my head, thanks." McKenzie interrupted Sam.

"He wouldn't necessarily be poking… just sort of… healing?" Sam offered.

"I said I'm fine." McKenzie stood, and finished off her coffee. "I could use directions to that shooting range now."

~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

Dean could hear McKenzie shooting as he emerged from the garage and headed toward the range. Sounded more like she was using a shotgun, rather than a handgun, which honestly, was what he'd been expecting.

He came up behind her and watched for a minute. It was clear she was a good shot judging from the target she had up. Along with the several other targets that were lying on the ground behind her, having been slaughtered beyond recognition.

It was pointless to try to get her attention; he could see the earplugs in her ears as she took another shot. The recoil was nicely absorbed. It was clear she'd been shooting for a long while. Dean admired her training, as well as the fitted outfit she wore.

Dean had always been superficial. He knew it well enough that he wouldn't have denied it. So he found himself surprised at the lust he felt looking over her. Her figure was not petite. Though he knew she could hold her own, she did have on some extra weight, made obvious in her calves, arms and stomach. But in spite of that, he easily recalled the image of her breasts from the night before, how full they were at the top of her low-cut tank.

She paused to reload as he attempted to banish the picture from his mind. She'd been through enough lately without him hitting on her. He took advantage of the break to approach her.

"Hey."

McKenzie glanced up, a bit startled by his sudden appearance.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

McKenzie shrugged. "Just didn't know you were there."

"You're a pretty good shot. Especially with a shotgun. Is that a 12-gauge?" He squinted at the gun in her hand.

McKenzie nodded and finished reloading.

"You been shooting with that all day?" Dean raised an eyebrow. Her shoulder would be torn up by now.

"Just the last hour or so." McKenzie shook her head. "Before that I had a glock and then my rifle."

Dean nodded. "Not a bad selection."

"I like variety." McKenzie aimed the target that was currently hanging. "I may need another target though."

"Eh, forget the targets. I keep a more interesting stash up here." Dean wheeled around and rummaged under a pile of firewood. He came back with several empty beer bottles. "Don't tell Sam. He hates cleaning up the glass."

McKenzie smiled, which in turn brought a smile to Dean's face.

He set them up on a fallen tree near where they put up the targets.

"Mind if I…?" he motioned to her shotgun.

"No, go ahead." She handed over the gun and stood off to his side.

Dean took only a moment to start shooting, hitting two of the three bottles immediately.

"Not bad, Winchester," said McKenzie. She held out her hand, accepting her gun back. Before Dean had realized it, she'd shot the remaining bottle.

"Not bad yourself, Howard." Dean winked at her with a grin.

McKenzie's smile waned. "I think I'm gonna go get cleaned up."

Dean frowned at her back as she headed back towards the bunker. Was it something he'd said?

~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie held herself under the hot water. Though Dean had been the one to wink and call her by her last name, she saw Clay behind it. That same shit-eating grin he'd use when he called her by her last name back in the good days of their relationship. Back before. He'd been out of her head for so long. She'd started to feel somewhat normal again, but here he was.

Granted, normal had meant, for a while anyway, having one night stands with men and women at various bars, and becoming personal with her favorite knife. She glanced down at her wrists and found the scars that remained.

Though Cas had healed her the other night, he had only done a surface healing. Her newest injuries were gone, in addition to some of the lighter scars, but the deepest scars were still there, just a touch lighter than before. Or maybe that was just her imagination.

Her eyes grazed over her razor. It had been a long time. But in fairness, it'd been a longer time since she'd finally been rid of Clay.

She shook off the urge to hold the razor to her skin, foregoing even her regular shaving routine for fear of giving in to the temptation.

Instead she turned the water even hotter, and sobbed under its scolding stream.


	12. Chapter 12

Trigger warnings: potential for domestic abuse.

McKenzie grumbled from the back of the Impala. She still wasn't a hundred percent certain how they'd talked her into leaving her Mustang behind to ride with them. The biggest issue was that it meant she needed to come back to the bunker before splitting off from them.

She needed to make sure she didn't get roped into staying once they returned. Hopefully Sam wouldn't have as easy a time finding a case, and there'd be a good break so she could leave without argument.

"What are you bitching about back there?" Dean's eyes found hers in his rearview mirror.

"Just can't believe I left Sally back there." McKenzie peeled her eyes from his and stared at the window.

"Your _Mustang_ is named _Sally?_ Like the song?" Dean scoffed.

"It started as an inside joke, and well… It just sort of stuck." McKenzie shrugged. It had actually been Bobby who'd named Sally. She'd stayed in touch with him for a while after she'd left hunting, and she filled him in on the Mustang she was trying to get working. He'd joked about calling it Sally, and it had grown into an ongoing thing until finally she couldn't separate the two.

The memory of Bobby struck at her heart, weighing her down even more than she already felt. She'd started avoiding Bobby's calls after Clay had started changing. He'd had a knack for knowing when things were wrong, and she didn't want Bobby to know how Clay was acting.

He'd also had a horrible ability to call at the worst times.

 _The bruise on her back still throbbed, but the pain paled in comparison to everything else that had been done to her in the last few hours. She felt raw, and dirty._

 _Her cell phone rang before she could take better stock of any injuries. McKenzie glanced at the phone, sighing when she realized it was Bobby checking in. Sniffling a few times, she inhaled deeply and answered._

 _"Hey, Bobby, what's up?"_

 _"Hey, girlie. Hadn't heard from you in a while. Wanted to make sure a ghoul hadn't gotten you."_

 _She smiled wistfully in spite of the pain she was in. "No, I'm okay, Bobby. No ghouls here."_

 _"You sure? You don't sound okay."_

 _"Just tired. Long day at work." She fiddled with the hem of her shirt._

 _"You've been having a lot of those lately. Sounds like this job is harder than huntin'." Bobby sounded suspicious._

 _"Not necessarily harder – just busy. A good kind of busy though." McKenzie shifted and winced at the pain that lanced through her._

 _"That Clay kid treatin you right?"_

 _McKenzie hesitated. Could he really tell over the phone? "Of course, Bobby. Clay is great, as always."_

 _"Mmhmm. Well you tell that idjit he better, or I'll be makin' a trip out there myself."_

 _McKenzie would give herself over to a demon before she'd tell Clay anything of the kind. "Will do, Bobby. Stay out of trouble, old man."_

 _"Why, Mac, I'm hurt. I always stay out of trouble."_

 _"Who are you trying to fool?" McKenzie scoffed._

 _"Be safe, kid."_

 _"Bye, Bobby."_

McKenzie stared at the blur of trees on the side of the highway. She'd always wondered if Bobby had actually known more than he let on. It was one of the reasons she'd stopped answering his phone calls. As much as it hurt to stop talking to him, she didn't need Bobby investigating her relationship and finding out something that would endanger him. It was difficult to say exactly what Clay was capable of.

"Earth to McKenzie." Sam waved a hand back in her direction.

"What? Huh?" She turned her attention to the front, blinking with confusion.

"We were talking about what to get for lunch. Do you have any preferences?"

"Oh. No, whatever's fine." She shrugged, and turned her attention back out the window.

"You alright back there?"

"Mmhmm."

Sam didn't pry anymore to McKenzie's relief.

~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie exhaled slowly, glad to have a moment's peace in her motel room. It may have smelled musty, and had wallpaper that likely originated from before her birth, but it was a nice break from being stuck in the back of a car with the Winchesters. They were in the room next to her, which meant she'd probably be able to yell through the wall if she wanted, but it was better than the last few hours had been.

Sam had tried to ask McKenzie questions about _her_. Her past. Her relationship with Bobby. Her hunting practices.

She'd answered with short responses so he'd get the hint, but it didn't help too much.

 _"You said you lived with your grandmother as a kid? Was she around here?"_

 _"No. Virginia."_

 _"Oh, that's awesome. Some friends and I visited Williamsburg and Jamestown in college. Gorgeous area."_

 _"You visited historical sites during college?" Dean had interrupted._

 _"Not all college students go on drunken binges in Cancun, Dean."_

 _"Apparently."_

 _"Anyway. Where in Virginia, McKenzie?"_

 _McKenzie traced one of her scars out of habit. "Near Richmond."_

 _"That's awesome. We went through Richmond on our trip. Swung by the Poe Museum and a few other spots. Great food too."_

 _McKenzie nodded. "Yeah, that's Richmond." She hoped he'd get the hint, but he continued._

 _"If we have a second, we should go. I've only heard good things about the area lately."_

 _Thankfully, Dean had piped in again. "What are you, reading travel magazines in your free time?"_

 _"I'm capable of reading about things that aren't trying to kill people, Dean."_

 _The two had bickered long enough that Sam's questions were forgotten, and the lump in McKenzie's throat had begun to wan._

McKenzie plopped down on the bed, languishing at the ability to stretch out, even if the mattress was lumpy. She hadn't slept more than a few hours in the last couple of nights, and it was beginning to take a toll. It had taken an energy drink and two cups of coffee to keep her awake while in the car with the boys, and while the caffeine had made her jumpy, it was wearing off now.

She closed her eyes for a minute, trying to block out the dull throb that had pulsed in the back of her head for the last hour.

 _The front door slammed shut in the next room, causing McKenzie to jump in fear._

 _"Clay! You're home early!" McKenzie tried to shove the overnight bag under the bed, but wasn't in time before Clay stormed into the tiny bedroom._

 _"I knew it! I knew you were planning something, whore!" He flung her into wall, then grabbed her up before she could recover._

 _"I'm just putting some things away for stor-"_

 _He slapped her, cutting off her lie. "I don't understand why you lie to me. Everything I do for you, and you try to sneak away from me, and then lie about it."_

 _"Clay, please…"_

 _"Why do you make me do this to you?" He shook his head at her. "Why can't you just do as I say? Then we'd never have this problem."_

 _Before McKenzie could move from his hold, her right wrist was snapped into a pair of handcuffs. With a swift movement, the other half of the handcuffs were clasped around the rail of the bed frame, so that if she drew the cuffs upward it hit one of the horizontal rails._

 _"Clay! What are you doing?"_

 _"I think you need to stay here and think for a while. Think about everything I do for you!"_

 _"Clay!" McKenzie yanked at the cuffs, hoping that maybe they were a prop and not real, but to no avail._

 _She yelled for him again, but he was off in the other room, the television already on at full volume as McKenzie began to cry._

In the other room, Dean glanced at Sam who had his headphones in as he watched something on his laptop.

From behind the wall Dean could hear the muffled sounds of McKenzie calling out in her sleep, mixed with the occasional moan or sob.

He sighed to himself. He had no idea where to begin.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean rapped on McKenzie's door, the coffee he'd bought her in hand.

"McKenzie? It's Dean!"

McKenzie swung the door open, blinking at the sunshine. "What the hell time is it?"

"Almost noon. We'd thought you would've been up by now." Dean handed her the coffee, which she took gratefully. He tried to ignore her outfit, which looked like an oversized shirt that fell just beyond the tops of her thighs.

"Why did you let me sleep so late?" McKenzie turned back into her room, Dean following behind her.

Dean shrugged. "Thought you needed the sleep."

McKenzie swallowed the sip of coffee she'd taken and glared at him. "And that's suddenly your decision?"

"Did you actually get decent sleep?"

McKenzie grumbled. "Yes."

"Then, okay." Dean smirked. "So we ran by the apartment of the first victim. Came up with squat."

Dean watched McKenzie consider as she sipped more of the coffee.

"How many victims are there?" she asked.

"Three. There was one more yesterday, while we were driving out here."

"So we should've come sooner, is what you're saying." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"We wouldn't have had any way of knowing. It wouldn't have mattered." He shook his head sadly.

"So, what's next?" She drained the rest of the coffee, and tossed the cup in the trash.

Dean studied the woman in front of him. There were still dark circles under her eyes, despite the sleep she claimed she'd gotten the night before. Given how long he'd listened to her call out in her sleep the night before, any sleep she'd gotten was probably superficial and not what she needed.

"Next we go get some lunch."

"You mean, next we go look at bodies." She threw him a disparaging look.

" _After_ we get some lunch." Dean picked up her overnight bag and tossed it on the bag. "Why don't you go ahead and get showered? Come over when you're ready and we'll find somewhere to eat."

He left the room before she could protest, knowing she would continue to insist they get on with the investigation.

Sam was on his laptop when Dean strolled back into their hotel room.

"Hey, how's she doin?"

Dean shrugged. "I think she slept, but…" He drifted off.

"Probably not very deeply?" Sam finished.

Dean nodded. He hadn't told Sam about hearing McKenzie through the wall, and a strange part of him wanted to keep that to himself. Lately he'd started to feel like McKenzie's protector. He knew about the nightmares she'd had back at the bunker, and now he knew about the ones she was still having. As far as he knew, Sam had only guessed about the nightmares.

Most of her nightmares last night had reminded him of his nightmares after returning from Hell. She'd clearly dreamt of her ex, and what she'd suffered through. Dean had to drink three glasses of whiskey before he'd been able to go to sleep, her crying still coming in waves through the night. He probably had slept worse than her, but only out of empathy.

Sam interrupted his thoughts, "You okay, dude?"

"What? Yeah, yeah." Dean nodded. "I'm good."

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie rested her head against the cool tile as the water poured over her. She didn't feel that much rested than she had before, having woken up probably half a dozen times from nightmares. She'd finally downed a pill from an old prescription for a muscle relaxer with a shot of rum, and that let her sleep peacefully for the last few hours before Dean had shown up.

She rubbed her temples, trying to rid her mind of the images that remained from her nightmares.

They'd started out as usual. She'd dream either of things Clay would do to her, or of Clay suddenly showing up where she was and pulling her back into his control. But right before giving in to the pill and rum, her nightmares had shifted.

McKenzie sighed deeply, turning the dial up even hotter.

That last nightmare kept replaying. It had started normally, with Clay angry over something silly and trivial. But then Dean and Sam had entered. And instead of defending her, or saving her, they had helped Clay.

Dean especially had taken on a very Clay-like persona, berating her for a mistake which now, the hot water streaming over her, she couldn't even remember. By the end of the dream, she'd woken with tears on her cheeks.

This wasn't particularly new. The few times she'd started to spend time with the same man for more than a couple of days, she always felt them creeping into her unconscious. She'd only allowed it twice before she'd made it a point to drop men after one or two nights. But even in those nightmares, the men blurred together, forgotten almost immediately.

This time was different though. McKenzie shivered, and then turned the faucet even hotter, reveling in the sting of the water. Never before had she felt as betrayed as she had this morning. Never had she woken from a nightmare with such an ache of despair and fear.

It was almost time for her to go her separate way.

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

Dean watched McKenzie throughout lunch. She seemed short with them today, particularly with him. Though she'd never really gushed her feelings at them before, he mused. But somehow today was different.

"So I'll go look at the bodies, and y'all have the house of the most recent victim?" McKenzie downed the rest of the beer in her glass, and flagged down their server. "Another when you have the chance? Thanks."

"Isn't it a bit early?" Dean raised his eyebrow.

Sam shot him a look. "I'm sorry, hypocrite much?"

"Well it's like her third and it's only one. Plus she has to pretend to be FBI. You know she can't reek of alcohol going into a morgue."

"It's called a really high tolerance and a couple of mints, Dean." McKenzie rolled her eyes at him.

Dean pretended to shrug it off, but he had a feeling her sudden alcohol intake had something to do with her dreams the night before. He could feel Sam still looking at him, likely wondering why he, of all people, was suddenly lecturing someone on their drinking.

"I'm fine with that plan." Sam nodded, going back to their talk of the case. "We can meet back at the motel after and put our heads together."

Sam and McKenzie discussed some more potential theories for the case, but Dean kept getting distracted by thoughts of the previous night. He wondered if McKenzie had nightmares all the time, or if they were just back after the recent haunting. He wondered if she had them on and off, like he still did, and if they were just worse now. McKenzie had covered up the bags under her eyes skillfully. The make up she wore now made her look awake and alert, completely unlike what she'd looked like that morning when he'd first woken her. He'd been surprised with himself after he left her room. He knew he was a superficial ass. It was a staple of who he was. But despite the bit of extra weight she carried, he found himself thinking happily back at the vision of her bare legs under her nightshirt. Her movements had even forced the shirt up a bit momentarily so he could see a glimpse of red panties. Even now, sitting in a crappy diner, he felt himself stir a bit at the memory of it.

Without meaning to he glanced up at McKenzie, trying to imagine what she'd looked like under the nightshirt. He definitely wouldn't have any complaint about her breasts. She was clearly pushing a double D, if his guess was correct, which it usually was.

The image of her naked sent a jolt through him, and he forced the picture out of his head. He just needed to get laid. It had been a few weeks or so. Yes, that was it exactly. McKenzie wanted nothing to do with a jackass like him, and he was certain he would say all the wrong things about her body if they ever hooked up. Was he supposed to call her plus sized? Curvy? He didn't know how to handle any of that, so it was just easier to satisfy his needs elsewhere.

"Hey, earth to Dean?" Sam waved his hand at his brother.

"Huh?" Dean blinked a couple of times at Sam. "Sorry, what?"

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at Dean to show his frustration and confusion. "We're paid up and should probably get going."

"Oh, right. Yeah, definitely." Dean nodded enthusiastically. "Bout time we got this show on the road."

Sam shook his head. "Whatever you say, Dean."

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie considered the way Dean had been staring at her before Sam had woken him out of his daydream. For a moment she'd wondered if he'd been looking at her with interest, and a shiver had run through her. But as quickly as she'd thought it, she shoved the notion away. She'd heard gossip of Dean's sex life. She knew of the reputation he had for attracting the hottest women around, and she definitely didn't fall into that category. What he considered hot probably wouldn't hit even close to her number on a scale, even if the woman in question were holding two barbells of weights.

Likely he was just wondering how much the beer had affected her, or why Clay had even kept her around. In the back of her mind she scolded herself, knowing that she shouldn't remind herself of Clay, or put herself down in such a way. But she also knew the reality of her life. And she also knew that Clay had purposely chosen her. He knew she wouldn't leave him. He knew no one else wanted her, and he could do whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted, because who else would have her?

The one night stands she'd had since then always involved large amounts of alcohol, and she never slept over afterwards. It was too much to gamble. The words Clay had called her had stung enough; she didn't need someone else telling her what she already knew.

"Hey, McKenzie, how do you wanna do the ride situation?"

McKenzie pushed aside her thoughts, and considered. "If y'all wanna drop me at the morgue, I can get a cab back to the motel."

"You sure? We could always swing back around and get you." Sam offered.

"Yeah, but an FBI agent waiting for a ride?"

Sam shrugged. "Better than an FBI agent getting a cab."

McKenzie frowned. "Maybe I should've brought Sally after all."

Dean snorted. "I will never get over hearing you call that Mustang 'Sally'."

McKenzie ignored him. "Is the morgue close by? I could always walk."

"In those?" Sam looked pointedly at her heels.

"It's been known to happen, yes."

"It might just be easier if we all go together then." Sam suggested.

"Yeah, okay. I'm fine with whatever." McKenzie nodded. "As long as I don't have to be a trainee or anything."

"Don't worry. Dean can be a trainee."

"What? How come? I'm clearly older than both of you!" Dean protested as he climbed into the car.

McKenzie climbed into the back, laughing. "Maybe you were a career switcher."

Sam joined in her laughter as he settled into the front seat, ignoring Dean's muttering. "Come on, trainee. To the morgue, if you please."

~*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

Dean pulled on his suit jacket outside the morgue, having gotten sick of it earlier that day. He paused as he watched McKenzie pull on her own tailored jacket which matched the fitted suit she wore.

"What? Surprised they make cute suits for fat chicks?" McKenzie raised an eyebrow at him.

Dean was taken aback, but also a bit guilty, as it had briefly crossed his mind that she looked really good in the pantsuit, despite her weight. He started to stumble through a response, but she waved him off.

"They do make clothes for fat girls too, Dean. Of anyone, they want us to cover up." She walked into the building before he could try to respond.

He cursed himself quietly while Sam shot him a pointed look.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Dean interrupted. "Yeah, I know. Shut up."

Dean shoved his way into the building, feeling like an even bigger ass than he had before.


	14. Chapter 14

"Well, I got nothin'." McKenzie threw her hands up and fell into the chair at the tiny bar and grill in town.

"Not a damn clue." Dean agreed. "I'm beginning to think this really isn't our type of case, Sammy."

Sam pushed his hair back. "Yeah, I have to agree with you."

"I don't know. There's still something off about this. I just can't put my finger on it." McKenzie frowned and picked up the one page menu. "Oh, great, it's happy hour."

Dean resisted glancing over at Sam, but knew his brother was likely thinking the same thing. "You sure you wanna drink again? It's still early."

McKenzie rolled her eyes at him. "I'll be fine, _Dad._ Besides, aren't you usually drinking by now? _"_

"Yes, but I didn't have three beers at _lunch_."

"And they've been out of my system for over an hour, so I don't see the big deal." McKenzie shrugged, and then smiled at the server who had just walked up to the table. "Hey there," McKenzie paused and squinted, "Tim. Anything good on tap today?"

Tim listed off a few beers, but Dean was too busy glaring to pay attention. McKenzie had unbuttoned the top two buttons on her shirt before they'd come in, and Tim was trying not to stumble over his beer list as he blatantly stared at her chest.

"Hey, _Tim,_ her eyes are up here." Dean motioned to McKenzie's face, making his anger clear to the waiter.

Tim stuttered a bit at Dean's expression, "Y-yes, sir. What can I get you?"

McKenzie shot daggers at Dean, who in turn only glanced at her before starting his order. "I'll have the bacon cheeseburger and a water."

Dean ignored the confused look from his brother and continued, "Actually, waters all around. Sam, you want lemon with yours?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Put some lemon in his, thanks."

"Uh, yeah, that'd be great. And I'd like the cobb salad, please." Sam handed his menu up to the server, then went back to studying Dean.

"And you, miss?" Tim turned to McKenzie.

"I'll just have the Caesar salad and a tall Blue Moon. I don't like to eat a lot when I foresee a busy night ahead." She gave him a suggestive smile.

"Actually, she'll have the steak, and no beer." Dean interrupted.

"You can't order for me, Dean," she argued.

"I believe I just did."

Tim stood helplessly as the two of them argued.

"I'm not a child, Winchester."

"I never said you were, Howard."

She blanched a little, but recovered, and fired back. "I'm not just going to roll over and do what you say. _I'm_ not related to you!"

"Hey!" Sam protested.

"Sorry, Sam."

Sam frowned, "It's… okay."

Dean and McKenzie sat silently, fuming.

Sam cleared his throat and looked up at the now-shaking waiter. "How about you bring her a steak, and a _small_ Blue Moon? McKenzie, does that work for you?"

McKenzie continued to stare at Dean, but huffed, "Fine. Medium rare, and an orange slice on the beer."

"Dean?" Sam continued.

"Yeah, alright," he growled.

Sam smiled and nodded at Tim, who turned and fled toward the kitchen. He glared at both McKenzie and Dean as soon as Tim had vanished. "Can you two stop acting like children? I'm not a babysitter, thanks."

"I'm not the one who's trying to tell another adult what to do!" McKenzie hissed.

"And I'm not the one constantly making shitty choices and putting myself at risk. I can't believe how stupid you are after everything that's happened to you." Dean fired back.

McKenzie's anger was momentarily superseded by her astonishment at Dean's words. But her anger flared back, flaming in her eyes. "Sam, please let Tim know that I'll be sitting at the bar for the duration of my meal and he can serve me there."

"No, McKenzie, just st-"

McKenzie interrupted Sam. "I'll get a cab back to the motel tonight. Don't worry about me."

"But,McKe-"

"I said I'm good. We can leave tomorrow since obviously this case is a dead end. And then I'll get on the road from the bunker." She strutted up to the bar before Sam could argue some more.

Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Dammit, Dean."

"What do you mean 'dammit, Dean'? I didn't do shit!"

"Seriously?"

Dean's response was cut off by Tim returning with three waters.

"Oh, uh, she's gonna be eating at the bar." Sam pointed over to McKenzie who had settled into a seat with her back to the Winchesters.

Tim looked up and wore a confused expression for a minute, but recovered quickly, taking McKenzie's water over to her at the bar.

Dean hushed Sam before he could get to lecturing him. "Just drop it, Sam. We knew she would leave eventually. McKenzie never seemed like the type who would stay. And that was never the plan anyway. We don't hunt with other people, Sammy."

"We hunt with Cas. Even occasionally Crowley."

"Yeah but that's different."

"Oh? Care to enlighten me?" Sam sipped at his water mockingly.

"Well…they're…I mean, they've got useful powers and stuff. She's just another hunter."

"We've worked with other hunters before too, Dean."

Dean shrugged. "But none of them have lived with us. The closest we came was with Kevin, and he wasn't a hunter."

Sam winced a bit at the mention of the prophet, and almost brought up Charlie's brief time with them, but knew Dean was still sensitive about that as well. "I don't know, Dean. Something is just different this time. I don't want to say that she needs to stay around so we can help her, because she'd definitely leave then, but…"

"But it feels like we need to do just that?" Dean finished.

"Yeah."

Dean shook his head. "That's all the more reason to let her go. We have enough issues without helping a traumatized hunter."

But even as he said it, he had to shove aside the part of him that agreed with Sam.

*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie had only hustled two guys while playing the arcade-style Pac-Man in the bar's corner, but she found herself uncharacteristically bored. It was early yet – just after nine. Sam had left a bit ago, but Dean was still at their table, now with what looked like a whiskey, and a scantily-clad blonde.

She considered playing some more Pac-Man, but decided instead for another drink. After all, she hadn't had much. Not enough to upset Dean anyway.

McKenzie rolled her eyes at the thought. Dean was such a hypocrite. She'd lost count of how much alcohol he'd consumed in the time she'd been hunting with the brothers.

As she settled back into a seat at the bar, Mike, the bartender, sidled back up to her.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, Jack and Coke, please." McKenzie turned her head just in time to see the blonde lean over so that Dean was on the receiving end of deep, everlasting cleavage. "Actually, scratch the Coke. And make it a double."

Mike nodded, and pulled a clean glass from behind the bar. Almost immediately after he placed the drink in front of her, she drained it.

"Hey, slow down there, Mac. I haven't had time to catch up to you yet."

She spun on the barstool and found Tim standing behind her, a sly grin on his face, and his work shirt tossed over his shoulder, replaced with a plain black tee shirt.

"Well, I guess you'd better hurry up then, huh?" McKenzie matched his smile and motioned for Mike to refill her double.

Tim took the stool next to her and nodded at Mike, who clearly knew Tim's favorite drink. "I guess you're right."

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

Dean tossed… Mindy? Mandy? The nameless blonde's bra over to her from where he found it on the dashboard of Baby. She winked at him and put it in her purse.

She honestly hadn't even been that great, but it felt awkward staying at the bar to watch out for McKenzie if he didn't have at least a pretend reason. And then after Tim had joined her, he couldn't very well leave the blonde and be a third wheel.

He stepped out of the car, hoping to encourage the woman to get on her way. Normally he'd hurry a woman along afterward, but tonight even he felt like he was rushing things. Dean refused to admit to himself that he was purposely hurrying through his usual routine because he wanted to see if McKenzie had already left. When he and Maxi…? Marie? Seriously, how was he this bad at remembering women's names? When he had left the bar with the blonde, McKenzie and Tim were pretty obviously flirting, and definitely drunk. It was clear they were going to hook up at some point, but had they already headed out? If not, he should probably stick around to make sure she got back okay.

The blonde stepped out of Baby, smiling seductively at Dean. "So you gonna be in town long?"

"What? Oh, no, probably heading out tomorrow." Dean shook his head, still watching the door of the bar from his spot halfway across the parking lot.

A cab pulled up just as McKenzie walked out into the lot. She was alone.

The girl continued, "Oh, that's a shame. Well maybe I could give you my number in case you ever come this way again."

"Oh, no, that's okay, M-" He stopped. "Ma…Maddie?"

She glared at him. "Jennifer."

"Oh." How had he gotten Maddie from Jennifer? "Sorry."

His apology fell on deaf ears, however, as Jennifer was already storming away towards her car.

McKenzie glanced up just before she got into the cab, meeting Dean's eyes.

She took in the scene in front of her: Dean's clothes and hair disheveled, a clearly braless woman hurrying angrily away, and the passenger door to Baby still open.

With a sarcastic wink, McKenzie climbed into the cab about the time Tim slipped out of the bar and headed for a second cab which had pulled up.

Dean's stomach sank as he realized that McKenzie wasn't leaving with Tim. Which meant he'd purposely had sex with - crap. How had he already forgotten her name again? He'd had sex assuming that McKenzie was going to have sex.

What the hell was wrong with him?

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie tipped the driver and pulled her hotel room key from her purse. It had been a long night already, and she desperately needed a hot shower.

The door to her room swung open as Dean appeared next to her.

"Hey."

"Christ, Dean. Are you trying to kill me?" McKenzie had flattened her back against the doorframe, ready to punch Dean.

"Whoa, sorry!" Dean held his hands up in surrender.

"Or do _you_ have a death wish? Cuz I'm never empty handed when it comes to weapons."

"I said I was sorry. I just wanted to apologize for earlier."

"Oh?" McKenzie strolled into her room and tossed her purse onto the table.

Dean followed, closing the door behind him. "It was stupid, and I was an ass for saying it."

McKenzie kicked off her heels and studied him. "Yes, you were."

"Isn't this where you accept my apology and we go on our merry way?" Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

"Hey, I was just agreeing with you. I'll get to that other part eventually." McKenzie rifled through her bag to find her sweats.

"What do you mean eventually? How long is that gonna take?"

She folded her clothes over her arm. "Dean I'm not just going to say we're good and pretend like you're not a callous prick. You implied that my past is my fault."

"Actually I was implying that you needed to be more careful because of your-" He halted at her scathing look. "I mean, nevermind."

"And you, of all people, shouldn't be going around accusing people of alcoholism." She took her clothes into the bathroom, closing the door with a light click.

"I was just concerned, dammit!"

There was a pause before she exited, now wearing a tank top and a pair of gray sweatpants. "So tell it to a mirror, hypocrite."

"I didn't come in here to pick another fight." Dean plopped down on her bed.

"So, what, you came in here to annoy me? Or to mock me because I didn't get laid tonight like you did?" McKenzie tossed her day clothes onto her bag.

"Neither! I just came to make peace!"

"Well you're kinda sucking at it." McKenzie sat on the bed and picked up the remote.

"Stop attacking everything I say and maybe I wouldn't suck so badly."

McKenzie grinned, "I've never been told that I suck badly."

Despite his anger Dean chuckled, and scooted back against the headboard to sit next to her, watching her flip channels. "Wait, go back."

She returned to the previous channel. "Dr. Sexy? Really?"

"What? This is a good one." He began to describe the episode to McKenzie, giving the background of why it was so major.

Forty minutes later, McKenzie paid the pizza guy and hurried back to the bed. "So, he's just gonna _leave_ her? After everything they've been through?"

"That's Dr. Sexy. Gotta spread himself around. He owes it to them." Dean took a slice of the pizza. "Oh, thank Chuck for pizza places that are open late."

"Thank Chuck?"

"It's a long story."

McKenzie shrugged and bit into the pizza. "I have a feeling a lot of the Winchester stories are _long stories_."

"You have no idea."

"Though I hear that there's a book series that can help with that." McKenzie smiled with fake innocence.

"Don't tell me—you've read them?" He took a long draw from the Coke 2-liter she'd ordered from the pizza place.

"You know there are cups over there."

"Too far."

McKenzie rolled her eyes, but continued. "I haven't actually read them, but I've read some of the cliff's notes versions." She paused. "And some of the fanfic."

Dean stopped mid-chew, and looked up in fear. "Like…what?"

She wagged her eyebrows. "Wouldn't you like to know? Though I'm assuming that you and Sam have never…" McKenzie drifted off suggestively.

"Hell no! Oh, that's gross!" Dean tossed the remaining half of his slice into the box. "I think I've lost my appetite."

McKenzie chuckled, "I didn't mean it. Of course I know you haven't. Though… some of those stories…"

"Okay, time for bed." Dean made to get up.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop." McKenzie handed him his pizza slice. "Dr. Sexy marathon is over. Wanna check pay per view?"

"What, like, porn?" Dean looked scandalized at the thought of watching porn with her.

"There are other movies on pay per view, Dean."

"Really?"

McKenzie nodded, "Really. Although… not great pickings here." She turned off the TV, and instead pulled out her iPad. "Netflix?"

"Yeah, okay. But no chick flicks."

"Says the guy who just filled me in on three seasons of _Dr. Sexy_."

The two scooted closer together, the iPad positioned half on his lap and half on hers.

It wasn't even a full TV show later that the two were asleep, McKenzie's head coming to rest on Dean's chest.


	15. Chapter 15

Dean woke early the next morning to find his arm wrapped around McKenzie's back, and McKenzie's head and arm sitting on his chest. He smiled as he realized that McKenzie was snoring softly. He wondered if she snored often.

The clock on the bedside read 7:00. Likely Sam was up and had already gone out running.

There was something comfortable about being curled up next to her, like it was something they'd done for years. Dean considered waking her, but sort of wanted to stay like they were.

He closed his eyes and pulled her closer to him, falling back into an easy sleep.

*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*

It took McKenzie a full minute to realize that she was lying against a sleeping Dean, her hand holding onto his shirt like he was a teddy bear.

For one brief moment she felt safe and happy, but it vanished once she considered the consequences at hand. McKenzie tried to gently push herself off of Dean, but she still managed to wake him.

"Everything okay?" Dean yawned.

McKenzie rifled through her bag so she wouldn't have to look at him. "Yeah…just…wanted to grab a bite to eat. Getting hungry."

"Yeah, food sounds good." Dean stretched his arms above his head, arching his back and neck. "I think there was a diner next to that bar. An omelet would be amazing right now."

"Hm? Oh yeah, that does sound good." McKenzie frowned at her overnight bag.

"Lose something?" Dean asked.

"Huh? Oh no, just half asleep." McKenzie needed to hurry Sam and Dean along so they could get back and she could bail. "I'd say right after we should head on back to the bunker."

"Really? I thought you weren't sure about this case yet?" Dean cocked his head at her, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, well. I thought about it some more, and I guess y'all were right." She shrugged and zipped up her bag.

"Well, alright. Let's see if Sam wants some breakfast."

*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

Sam, McKenzie, and Dean pulled into the lot of a small diner. Dean kept glancing over at McKenzie, sure that something was up. She was quieter than usual, and fidgeting.

"So I vote, right after breakfast, we hit the road," said McKenzie.

"Yeah, I mean… if this case isn't of the supernatural variety, then there's no reason to stay," Sam agreed.

"Great. Glad that's settled." McKenzie shoved the door open to the diner and sauntered on in.

Dean followed, but both stopped just inside the door.

They were wearing different clothes than they had been just seconds before. Dean had on a black tee shirt with his jeans, instead of the plaid overshirt he'd just been wearing. McKenzie, meanwhile, was in black leggings with a long, deep yellow shirt that fell just beyond her thighs.

"Uh, what… just happened?"

Dean didn't answer her before one of the servers approached. "Hey, guys! I didn't realize you ever had the time to come by during the day anymore! And, hey, congrats you two!" She winked at them.

McKenzie managed to find her voice. "Uh, yeah. We wanted to take some time…to celebrate."

The server smiled and lowered her voice, "Sorry, you're probably surprised so many people already know. But you know this town. An upcoming wedding is the equivalent of a celebrity driving through." She laughed and turned to go back to work.

McKenzie and Dean shared the same shocked expression, both flicking their eyes down to McKenzie's left hand, where they realized there was now a ring.

By now they also turned and realized Sam was gone.

"Where's Sammy?" Dean opened the door and peered back out on the sidewalk, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Shit, this is bad."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. I guess we were wrong. This was definitely our kind of case." McKenzie tapped her foot, eyes swishing across the diner in thought. "I'd say we should go back to the motel and think."

Just as they turned to leave, the server approached again. "Oh, you aren't leaving so soon, are you? I know you probably want to get right to the wedding planning, but it's so rare we get you for lunch. Especially now that you've moved into that nice apartment."

"Oh, well, we just realized we forgot that…we had an appointment. For the wedding." McKenzie cleared her throat.

The server glared at them, and her eyes flashed red momentarily, "Can't you go later?"

"Uh, sure. Yeah, definitely. We'll reschedule and stay for…lunch." Dean's eyes widened at McKenzie subtly. "Don't you agree, honey?"

McKenzie nodded, also struggling to stay calm at the sudden change. "Oh, definitely…sweetie."

The two sat in a booth in the corner, trading wary glances while they ordered waters. As soon as the red-eyed server left, they huddled close together, leaning over the table.

"Oh, wait…" Dean reached over and grabbed her hand, clasping it within his. "Now it looks natural."

McKenzie frowned, "Yeah…natural."

"Look, obviously something is going on here. We need to play along until we figure out what." Dean hissed. "Do you think this is related to those deaths?"

"Definitely. The key is to figure out what's behind this. And we may need to push the limits to see how far we can go before the red eye issue becomes bigger."

Dean nodded and pulled away slightly as their server brought the waters and took their orders – two bacon cheeseburgers and fries.

"Bacon cheeseburgers? When did you two stop being vegetarians?" The server raised an eyebrow at them.

"Ve-vegetarians?" Dean stuttered.

"Of course." Her eyes flashed again, the red remaining longer than previously.

"Oh, um, two Caesar salads then. And the… veggie burger for Dean, as well."

"Oh, great." Her smile brightened and she practically skipped away to put in their order.

"Vegetarians?" Dean hissed.

"It's not going to change if you keep repeating it."

"But…but….vege-"

"Yes, vegetarians. I got it. Suck it up, and we'll find some meat to secretly devour later, okay? In the meantime, we need to choke this all down and then figure out what to do from here."

"And we need to figure out where the hell Sam is."

"Yeah, that too." McKenzie nodded. "And hopefully we can get out of here before we slip up and piss off the wrong red eyed person."

*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

Once Dean calmed down after realizing the Impala was nowhere to be found, the two searched instead for their home. It took some exploring and a few questions of the townspeople who also had red-flashing eyes, but Dean and McKenzie finally found their home: a modest apartment in the town center.

McKenzie raised her eyebrows at the homey feel – the brightly painted rooms, the matching furniture, even the curtains were perfectly paired. She let out the faintest sigh.

Dean watched her look of longing out of the corner of his eye. Despite the panic he'd been feeling not knowing where Sam was, he understood that expression. He'd felt similarly when they'd found the bunker – finally, a place that was _his_. He doubted McKenzie had ever really felt that way.

Come to think of it, he didn't know that much about her upbringing, other than what Sam had asked her. Had she ever lived someplace she called her own? Had she only had her own room growing up with her grandmother? Sam had mentioned she'd taken a break from hunting – had she had her own place then?

He watched her circle the apartment, taking in the furnishings, and even the photos on the wall.

"Dean. Look." She nodded at several photos that hung in the dining area, a tasteful blue and geometric-patterned wallpaper behind them. "Any of these people you know?"

Dean raked his eyes over the framed photos. There were several he didn't recognize, but sprinkled throughout there were people he immediately knew, in photos that couldn't possibly have happened.

"Yeah, that's… my parents. And… am I graduating?" Dean furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "But that's not possible."

"Your parents being alive, or you graduating?"

"Yes." Dean chuckled, despite the seriousness. "I mean… I have my GED, but…"

"That's Kansas State. You graduated college." McKenzie also had a look of confusion spread across her face, as they stood side by side, taking in the framed pictures.

"Yeah, but where's Sammy? There's no way he would've missed that." Dean shook his head. "And who are the rest of these people?"

McKenzie glanced over the other photos. "Well, those I don't know." She waved at a few pictures. "I'm guessing they're some of the people in this town. But these…"

Dean followed her eyes to three other photos.

"Those are my parents. And definitely older than when they died. That's me at this school play I was in when I lived with my grandma, but… Mom and Dad are in the picture too. They were out hunting a vamp nest when I was performing, so they never saw it. And then…this one…"

McKenzie silenced herself and stared at a photo of herself with a woman who looked a little bit older, but very similar. In the other woman's arms was a smiling baby.

"Kenzie?"

It was another several seconds before McKenzie answered him.

"She used to call me that. Kenzie, I mean. No one had called me that since…"

"Since I showed up."

McKenzie nodded.

Dean wanted to ask who she was, but didn't know if it was his place.

"Her name was Joanna. I called her Janna cuz I couldn't pronounce it when I was a kid." McKenzie crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing her upper arms as if trying to get warm.

Dean hesitated. "Older sister?"

She nodded.

"Is that why your parents starting hunting?"

McKenzie frowned at the picture. "She has a baby here. She probably got married and had a baby and lived happily ever after." She paused and responded to his question. "Yes, but not for the reasons you'd think. She had leukemia. They'd had me hoping I would be a match, but…" She shrugged. "After she died, my parents needed to fill their time up. A friend of theirs was a hunter, so…"

"So they started to kill things as a means of empty revenge for not being able to save their daughter." Dean finished.

"Pretty much." McKenzie gave him a grim smile.

Dean grew angry at the idea that McKenzie had been born to try to cure her sister, but then was just abandoned when their plan had failed.

"So in this world these people are probably still alive?" McKenzie switched subjects, clearing her throat. "Or, at least, lived longer than they did originally?"

"They must have. Although, it doesn't explain where Sam is…"

McKenzie glanced over at him, "You don't suppose that because Joanna lived, Sam…?"

"Died? I dunno. I guess it's possible. But wouldn't I have a picture of him from when he was little?" A thought struck Dean. "What if he was never born?"

McKenzie's eyes widened. "We really need to get out of this world. Immediately."

"I don't think I've ever agreed with you as much as I do now." Dean nodded. "I guess we need to start researching."

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

Sam sat in the corner booth of the diner, staring at the two hunters before him. They'd both begun acting weird as soon as they'd entered the diner. It was as if they were in a trance, and answering questions on autopilot.

"Dean? You have got to wake up and tell me what's going on. I don't know how to help you," Sam hissed.

Dean patted his brother's head robotically. "There, there, Sam. Everything is fine. Now where is our server? I would like to order a salad."

"A salad? Okay, that's it. We're leaving. Both of you get up." Sam stood and watched Dean and McKenzie stand stiffly from the booth. "That's right. Walk. Maybe you two should stay in the motel while I see if I can figure out what's going on with you."

Sam sighed as the two wordlessly ambled out of the diner. Now was one of those days he _really_ missed Bobby.

*~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie and Dean sat in the library, flipping through the small pile of books in front of them.

"Well, I got nothing." McKenzie closed a large encyclopedia with a sigh. "Definitely not a djinn, because then we wouldn't have the red-eyed things. And…nothing else I can think of would put us in an alternate world."

"The only other thing I can think of is a trickster, but…" He shook his head. "The only trickster I know of is dead, and he never employed creatures that got pissy when you didn't play along."

"Could it be a different trickster? Would they all do things the same?" McKenzie stacked the encyclopedia on top of the other books in the pile.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Evening, you two lovebirds. Almost five! We're getting ready to close up." A woman walked past their table, smiling. "If you leave those there, we'll get them back. After all, you need to get home and work on that wedding." She winked at them.

"Oh, yeah…the wedding planning." McKenzie nodded hesitantly.

"Oh, Alex stopped by and asked if y'all could swing by the diner on your way home."

Dean and McKenzie exchanged glances.

"Oh, Alex…sure. Sure. We'll head over there now." Dean raised an eyebrow at McKenzie, a wary look on his face.

"Great! Have a good night."

The pair watched the woman take an armful of books and head back into the shelves.

"Should we go to the diner?" McKenzie whispered.

"If we don't who knows what'll happen. Should probably do it." Dean stood from the chair and stretched. "Hopefully we'll be in and out. And then maybe we can find some dinner that includes meat."

McKenzie snorted. "An alternate reality and _that's_ what you're concerned about."

"Hey, I gotta keep my strength up." Dean protested.

The diner was only a few blocks over, so the two walked, still being without transportation.

"If we can find some particular ingredients, I know a summoning spell we could work. It draws out the energy of another spell in use and forces the creator out of hiding." McKenzie frowned.

"And you didn't think to start with that?"

"It's an incredibly complicated spell, and I've never done it to be honest. I just remember seeing it in my grandmother's grimoire. She only used it once."

Dean considered as they neared the diner door. "And you remember all the parts to it?"

"I have a pretty decent memory, and in that case, I helped her get some of the ingredients together. I'd be able to recreate it, I think. At least… if nothing else, as a last resort."

"Well, it's worth a shot then." Dean reached the door, and pulled it open, standing aside so McKenzie could enter first.

They walked on in to the diner, and once more found themselves stopping short.


	16. Chapter 16

"SURPRISE!" All of the customers in the restaurant jumped out from behind booths and back walls, smiles wide and bright.

McKenzie and Dean stared, wide eyed in a mixture of terror and relief, once they realized what was going on in the diner.

"Congratulations!" A few of the party-goers came towards them, grinning in a creepy, disconcerting way.

McKenzie and Dean shared an uneasy look, before both broke into frightened smiles.

"Oh, wow. Th-thanks, everyone!" McKenzie recovered, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "We are… shocked at this show of love and…excitement."

Dean picked up her cue and continued, "We couldn't be more excited for our upcoming…nuptials."

"Aw, you two lovebirds. Kiss! Kiss!" The man behind the diner counter (Alex?) cheered, starting a chorus around the room. "Kiss! Kiss!"

Dean didn't need to look too hard at McKenzie to see how uncomfortable she was. He pulled her gently to him, his lips next to her ear so that to anyone else it looked like they were embracing.

"We will get through this," He whispered. "And I promise not to do anything without your okay first."

McKenzie's eyes flicked up to his momentarily before she nodded and leaned towards him. "Okay."

He let her come to him, their lips meeting to loud cheers throughout the room. Dean let his lips barely press against hers, trying to be as gentle, but as realistic as possible. Despite the crowd around them, the kiss left him breathless and wanting more as they pulled away.

Dean let out a sigh, briefly ignoring the cheers and whistles around him as he fought the urge to kiss her again. He took her hand in his and squeezed in an attempt to reassure her. She responded with a weak smile, and it was clear she'd rather be anywhere but pretending to be his fiancé.

*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

The night crawled by and McKenzie grew increasingly anxious. The party-goers had called for them to kiss another half-dozen times until she'd begun grumbling to Dean that she thought that sort of thing only happened at the wedding – not the surprise engagement party.

By ten thirty, the duo had managed to extricate themselves from the remaining few townspeople, and reach the door of the diner.

"We're gonna need one last celebratory kiss before you two lovebirds skedaddle!" An older woman winked at McKenzie.

McKenzie shifted away from Dean subtly. Though she'd complained to Dean about having to kiss him, she was loathe to admit that she'd begun to enjoy it. Dean was an excellent kisser, and the last couple of times they'd kissed, she'd found herself more and more turned on.

Dean threw McKenzie a pleading look and stepped over to close the gap between them, and kissed her briefly on the lips.

The old woman scoffed, "Oh, please, that ain't a kiss!"

McKenzie raised an eyebrow at her, and looked to Dean, uncertainty painted across her face. She and Dean were still right next to each other, his arm around her waist.

"Trust me?" He whispered.

McKenzie closed her eyes, and nodded. She shoved aside thoughts of Clay, reminding herself that Dean was a different man.

Her eyes still closed, she felt Dean's calloused hand cup her left cheek, his thumb stroking it gently. His arm, already around her waist, pulled her closer so their bodies pressed together. She felt his body lean down the few inches to close the gap between them, and his lips were on hers. But this time he didn't immediately pull away from her. Instead he lingered, his lips softly playing over hers. She responded in kind, returning his kiss with slow, soft movements.

His hand still holding her cheek, Dean broke their kiss, inching away to stand at his full height.

McKenzie's eyes fluttered open, her cheeks warm with a faint blush. It had been years since she'd blushed.

Dean gave her a lopsided grin and dropped his hand back to his side, her cheek suddenly cooler at its absence.

The two left the diner, McKenzie feeling simultaneously excited, and frightened.

*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

The apartment was a short walk away, and while Dean knew he should've been trying to figure out a way out of this screwy world, he was almost enjoying it. The weather was beautiful – a clear night full of stars – he had a great apartment, and he was able to kiss McKenzie whenever it was needed. He had to admit, she was a damn good kisser. Of course, there were still the issues of no Sam, no Baby, and creepy red-eyed townies…

"So, I think that summoning spell is doable."

"Huh?" Dean blinked to bring himself out of his thoughts.

"The summoning spell? We're going to have to track down a few things, but I think I remember enough about it."

"Oh, right. So, what do we need?"

"Pine essential oil, hair from the spell's victims, so….our hair… I also need the skull of a bird, whole cloves, and sage."

"So, the only difficult things will be the bird skull. If I have to, I'll shoot a damn bird myself." Dean shrugged as they neared the book store over which their apartment sat. He opened the door to the stairs and held it for her.

"Sounds like a plan. I need a fireproof bowl, of course, but hopefully there's one in our- um, the apartment kitchen."

Dean found the key that had been in his pocket that morning, and unlocked the door to the apartment, once more holding the door for McKenzie.

"If you get the other stuff, I'll find the skull. Hopefully we'll be able to get it done tomorrow night."

McKenzie nodded. "I'll see what already exists in the kitchen. Hopefully the cloves and sage, and the bowl and matches."

"Don't worry about it now. We can look in the morning." Dean motioned to the room. "I'll run to the bathroom real fast and settle out on the couch."

McKenzie frowned. "I feel bad making you take the couch."

Dean shrugged, "No biggie. Can't be any worse than the shitty motel beds I'm used to."

He disappeared into the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie had changed into the pajamas she found in the dresser. It was a bit matchy for her – boxers printed with sheep jumping over clouds, and a matching tank top with a large graphic of the same sheep – but it was at least comfortable.

She considered Dean from the door of the bedroom. The couch wasn't terribly long, so his legs were bent at the knees in order for him to fit.

"Let me take the couch."

Dean craned his neck to look at her. "It's fine. I'm good."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm shorter than you. I'd be more comfortable on the couch than you."

"I can sleep anywhere, Kenzie." He moved back to lie on the throw pillow.

"But that doesn't mean you should have to." She walked towards the couch, pausing just next to Dean's head.

"And there's no reason you should sleep on the couch instead of me." Dean pulled the blanket they'd found in a linen closet up over his chest.

McKenzie hesitated, but then made a suggestion before she could analyze it further. "How about we share the bed?"

Dean stilled for a second, pausing his adjustments on the couch. He looked back up at her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"No, not good enough. Use your words."

"Yes, I am sure." She fiddled with the edge of the tank top.

"You don't seem sure."

McKenzie glared at him. "Fine, then sleep on the tiny couch."

"Whoa, whoa, just screwing with you." Dean threw back the blanket and hurried up.

McKenzie tried not to consider that he was shirtless and in boxers as they made for the bedroom. "So, um, what side of the bed do you want?"

"I'm good with whatever." Dean shrugged. "Bed's a bed."

McKenzie nodded, and climbed into the bed, trying to stay as close to the edge as possible. Dean settled in on the opposite end, the covers stretching to cover him.

Between the kisses they'd shared, and knowing he was shirtless next to her, McKenzie knew she was getting too comfortable with Dean. She was starting to have feelings for him, and it needed to end immediately. No good could come from this.

*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

Dean leaned over and turned off the light, trying not to focus on the fact that McKenzie was lying next to him in her pajamas. He didn't want to admit it, but kissing her all day had gotten him turned on. He already knew there was no way the red eyed townies would let him go pick up a girl that wasn't his "fiancée" and he knew McKenzie wouldn't let him get anywhere near her.

Not that he blamed her. He could still remember her screams from two nights before – just on the other side of the motel wall.

Dean forced his eyes closed, trying to push from his head the image of her lying under him naked as he explored her body with his eyes, and hands, and tongue. He tried not to think of what she would look like orgasming, or what her breasts would feel like in his hands.

He ignored his growing erection, glad that he was already faced away from her in the bed. It was going to be a very long night.

*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie woke to sun streaming in through the large windows in the bedroom. She could smell coffee wafting in from the other room. The sheets next to her had been pulled neatly up towards the top of the bed.

With the exception of one nightmare, she'd slept decently, which was surprising. She'd assumed with Dean in the bed next to her, she would have more nightmares, not less.

McKenzie rose from the bed and searched through the dresser and closet for some clothes. This universe must think she liked really feminine clothes, much to her despair. She opted for a simple, coral sundress so she could at least be comfortable.

Dean was seated at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of him while he browsed a newspaper.

"Morning, honey," he winked with a laugh.

McKenzie rolled her eyes and made for the coffee pot.

"So from what I can tell, this world is mostly the same. Well, minus the obvious anyway. Same crap going on elsewhere according to the paper." Dean folded the paper and tossed it on to the table. "I'll work on getting the bird skull as soon as I finish this coffee."

"Sounds good." She poured some coffee into a cup, and then began a search for sugar. "Any sugar around here?"

"Don't know. I drink my coffee the right way."

"Ha. Hilarious." She frowned into the cupboards, and then gave up, pouring some milk in instead. McKenzie had only had two sips when the landline rang.

McKenzie and Dean both looked over at the phone, and then at each other.

"Should we answer it?"

"Yeah, probably. Otherwise those red eyed bastards are gonna get pissy." Dean stood and grabbed the phone off the hook. "Hello?"

McKenzie watched Dean listen to the other line, trying to gauge what was going on.

"Oh, of course. Um, where is that again?" He paused. "Right. See you in an hour."

"Who are you seeing in an hour?" McKenzie set her coffee on the table, settling in to one of the kitchen chairs.

"Correction: who are _we_ seeing in an hour. And the answer is: our photographer, apparently."

"Say what, now?"

Dean grimaced and sat back at the table. "For our engagement shoot."

"Our… engagement shoot."

"Yup. Oh, and our photographer, Lynn… says to remember to bring three outfits we want, and…the lingerie you were considering for…" he hesitated. "Your boudoir shoot."

McKenzie gulped some coffee. "I am officially in Hell."

"If I hadn't been there before, I'd agree with you."

*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

Dean and McKenzie arrived at the photography studio, a backpack of clothes in hand to try to play along.

"So immediately after this, we go get the cloves, and I track down a bird skull and we find out how to get the Hell out of here." Dean held the door open for her, talking low.

"Seconded."

A woman greeted them in the studio. "Here's our lovely couple now! I'm so excited for our shoot today! I thought we could do some pictures in the garden out back."

They were led through a couple of small rooms and out a back door. Surrounded by a tall fence was a spacious garden complete with coy pond, tiny bridge, and gazebo. There were what seemed hundreds of flowers, and a corner of decorative grasses and ferns.

"So, if you wanted to get changed if y'all's first outfits, the changing room is just beyond that door." The lady, whom Dean figured by now was Lynn, pointed back towards the door they'd just come through.

"Changing…room?" McKenzie stuttered.

Lynn smiled, "Oh yes. I figure with you two living together and all, it's not a problem for you that there's one changing room. Now, hurry hurry! We have a lot to do!"

Dean followed McKenzie back in and into the changing room. He could almost feel the nervousness radiating off her as she set the bookbag down on the lone chair.

"So… I'll take this corner over here, and you can have the other corner. I…won't look. I promise." Dean gave her a reassuring nod as he reached into the bag and pulled out the button up shirt he'd chosen.

"Yeah…okay." She reached in and pulled out black leggings and a long plaid shirt.

They fumbled into their corners, changing as quickly as possible, and ignoring the mirror that was on the wall parallel to them.

Dean finished first, but waited with his back still to McKenzie.

"Okay, done," said McKenzie.

He turned, taking in her outfit. The shirt fell mid-hip, the leggings perfectly clinging against her curves. Dean felt himself stirring at the sight, but shoved the thought down. The last thing McKenzie wanted, nor needed, was him turning into a horny jackass.

"Let's get this over." McKenzie practically fled the small room.

*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

By the last outfit, McKenzie was sick of posing for pictures. Is this what it was like modeling? She'd take hunting any day.

"So, now I'd like us to do some more intimate poses."

McKenzie raised an eyebrow. "For…engagement photos?"

"Oh, definitely." Lynn's eyes flashed red briefly.

McKenzie pushed a bit more, "I don't know if I want my engagement photos to be… intimate. That seems too personal to me."

Lynn's eyes flamed red, holding the color as she looked at McKenzie. "Are you not comfortable being in intimate photos with your soon-to-be-husband? That's…odd."

Dean stepped in between them, "Oh, no, not at all. I think she misunderstood. Honey, it's just photos for us really. We don't have to share them with anyone."

Lynn's eyes were still red as Dean reached out and put a hand on McKenzie's arm.

McKenzie looked over at Lynn, and sighed. "Oh, yes, I understand now."

The red vanished, replaced with her soft brown eyes.

"Great! So I was thinking that our first would be you two in here." Lynn led them back into the studio, and in to a side door, where a double bed was made up.

McKenzie gulped, trying to control her breathing.

"So let's have McKenzie lie on the bed on her back, and Dean, lie next to her on your side, facing her."

McKenzie inched on to the bed, making sure her dress stayed in place as she went. She settled on her back, head resting on the fluffy pillow. Dean pulled up next to her, propping himself up on his left side so he was almost touching her right side.

"Great! Now…McKenzie look up at him lovingly. Dean reached over with your right hand and clasp her cheek. Yes, just like that. And McKenzie lift your left hand so it's over top of his right hand."

She did as told, but avoided looking anywhere but Dean's ear.

"Now, McKenzie, look into Dean's eyes. Imagine your future together."

McKenzie's breath hitched. Looking into Dean's eyes was one of the last things she wanted to do.

"Kenzie, it's okay. Just a little longer," Dean whispered.

She sighed, and looked up into his green eyes. As a rule, she avoided others' eyes. She always felt that it revealed too much.

"These look great! Okay, now, Dean lean down and kiss her."

Dean caressed her cheek with his thumb reassuringly as he leaned down and found her lips with his own.

McKenzie pushed away thoughts of the photographer, instead trying to focus on Dean's kiss. It was just as it was yesterday, gentle but firm. Distantly she could hear Lynn making encouraging comments. Dean deepened the kiss, leaning in so more of his weight was on her, his chest flattening against hers.

She kissed back, her fingers clasping around his palm.

Lynn said something, and Dean pulled away. McKenzie's eyes met his, shocked to see what she thought was a look of longing.

 _Shit_. McKenzie looked away quickly. She was falling for him, and it would likely be the death of her.


	17. Chapter 17

McKenzie sat in the shower, the steaming water rushing over her. At least between her time at the bunker and the time in this nightmare of an alternative world, she was getting thoroughly hot showers.

She couldn't shake the image of Dean over her, looking into her eyes before kissing her that morning at the engagement shoot. Her shower should have been over several minutes before, having already finished, but instead she sat on the floor of the tub, studying her razor.

She'd been doing so well. It had been… a year? Maybe two?

The razor was brand new, fresh from the full package that had been under the bathroom sink. McKenzie had to applaud her parallel world self for having most of the supplies she needed. Though, she was still bitter about the lack of sugar, cream, or meat.

McKenzie pressed the blade to her stomach, gently at first, and then harder as she began to drag it in a thin line across her pale skin. Red droplets rose immediately to the surface, spilling in zigzagging trails before being swept away by the water. She watched the pinkish water swirl down the drain before she cut another identical line below it.

She let out a long, shaky breath as she cut a third line. As much as she hated herself for it, it was giving her a sense of control. It reminded her she shouldn't fall in love with Dean, and that others, in general, couldn't be trusted. McKenzie had been alone since fleeing Clay three years before. A sob escaped as she let the razor fall to the floor of the tub.

It had been a while since she'd thought about her. About her reason for finally walking away from the abuse. From her excuses for Clay.

McKenzie had called her Bianca – "Bee" for short in her mind. On the good days, Clay had helped her decorate the nursery with anything bee-themed. On the bad days…

The image of Bianca in the incubator, so tiny and overwhelmed by tubes, came unbidden to her, and it took every ounce of her will power to leave the razor at the bottom of the tub.

"Kenzie?" Dean's voice pierced through her, reminding her of where she was. The water had grown tepid, and the cuts on her stomach were still dripping blood, not yet fully clotted.

"Yeah, out in a second!" She stood and turned off the water. After stepping from the tub, she leaned back in and picked up the razor, tossing it into the waste basket. Yanking some toilet paper off the roll, she pressed it to the cuts to help along the clotting, and wrapped herself with a towel to keep it in place.

"Ya know, if you need some.. ah, _alone time_ , you could just say so. I'll head out for a few and you can have the bedroom." Dean spoke with amusement in his voice, chuckling after he finished.

McKenzie swung the door open with a flourish, her face a mask. "Ha. Hilarious. Shaving legs takes longer than shaving faces, Dean-o."

The expression on his face seemed almost like one of desire as she emerged in only the towel, but McKenzie knew better. She was not Dean's type. Dean's type was thin, and built in just the right places. McKenzie was built… well, basically everywhere.

She felt his eyes on her as she crossed to the bedroom, clutching the towel so not only would it stay up, but it would also help hold the toilet paper in place over the fresh cuts. The scene would have reminded her of when she and Clay lived together, but Dean was silent. Clay would have been berating her for something – possibly her weight, though three years ago she was the thinnest she'd ever been in her life, a good forty pounds lighter than she was now.

Dean's eyes made her uneasy though he was silent. Was he judging her? Wondering why Clay had bothered with her at all? Or was he wondering how he got stuck in an alternate world where he was forced to pretend to be engaged to her?

She sighed as she slipped into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. The sooner they were back in the real world, the better.

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

Dean knew he was staring, but he found it difficult to take his eyes off of her. There was something damn sexy about McKenzie's curves under the towel. And her legs were amazing.

He closed his eyes, chastising himself as she disappeared into the bedroom. They needed to focus on doing the spell, ganking whomever was behind it, and then getting the hell outta here. But here he was gawking like a twelve-year-old.

There was a small part of him though that would miss having a reason to kiss her. At the very least if they had to be stuck here, he was enjoying that.

He shook his head a little to snap out of his thoughts, and stood, calling to McKenzie. "I'm running out to find the bird skull!"

Dean closed the front door behind him, finding himself wishing it were the bedroom door closing behind him instead.

~*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~*

McKenzie sat in the room, now fully dressed except for her shirt. The slits had finally clotted, though she itched to open new ones.

She slid sideways onto the bed, curling into herself. Tears streamed freely as she wondered if she would ever really be free.

~*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~*

McKenzie woke with a start as Dean knocked on the door.

"Kenzie?"

Her mind was confused, trying to remember where she was.

Alternate world.

Engaged to Dean.

Shirtless.

She groaned quietly as he called again.

"Kenz?"

"Yeah, be right there!" McKenzie pawed around in the now-darkened room for her shirt, slipping it over her head quickly as she winced at the slight pain that radiated from the cuts.

Dean was standing over the bowl she'd found for the spell. He had a brown sack in his hand, and was peering through the ingredients she'd already gathered that morning.

"So, looks like everything," he said.

"Yeah, I think we're ready to go. It's likely not a demon, but I still think we should draw a devil's trap."

"Way ahead of you." Dean nodded behind her where she hadn't noticed a pre-drawn trap.

"Good. Good." She blinked the sleep out of her eyes. "Okay, so, go ahead and put all of the ingredients in – the order doesn't matter. I just need to grab one thing. You wanna have some sort of weapon ready just in case?"

Dean nodded. "I got a couple of different things on me."

McKenzie didn't respond to him, instead searching up the small dirk she'd found earlier. He put the last of the ingredients in, opening his paper bag to reveal the bird skull.

"What now?"

"Now there's a bit in Latin, and I light this bad boy up."

McKenzie spoke slowly, "Ostendam tibi virum magum. Non voco revelare te. Ostendam tibi virum magum. Non voco revelare te."

The lights flickered, and a roaring sound filled their ears. McKenzie inched towards Dean so their arms were touching, both of them on guard for what would appear.

In front of them, appeared a man in jeans and a Pink Floyd tee shirt, looking rather amused that he'd been summoned.

"I was kind of curious how long it would take you to figure it out."

Both McKenzie and Dean looked at each other, and then back at the man.

"Oh, come on, you still don't know?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Should we?"

"I'm Coyote," he said, standing up straighter and pushing his chest out proudly.

McKenzie and Dean were silent.

"Coyote? Seriously?' You haven't heard of me?" His tanned face sagged. "I shouldn't be surprised, really. It's why I'm doing this gig."

"So, _Coyote,_ wanna fill us in?" Dean pushed, rolling his eyes.

"No, wait. Coyote. Native American trickster, yeah?" McKenzie furrowed her eyebrows, trying to ignore Dean's arm pressed up against hers.

"That would be me! Coyote at your service!" He half-bowed.

"Another trickster? Seriously?" Dean threw his hands up.

"I mean, we're not exactly on every block or anything." Coyote rolled his eyes. "Anyway, we need to talk quickly. The spell helped me channel some of my power so the Chepi can't hear."

"Chepi?" McKenzie leaned against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed over her chest.

"A spirit who can be called upon to destroy an enemy in revenge. He's angry that no one calls on him anymore, so I made a bargain out of boredom where I'd have some trickster fun and in the end he got to destroy the victims. But now I want out, and he's not the friendly sort."

"How does he destroy them?" Dean leaned back next to McKenzie, matching her stance.

"The more you disagree with what's going on in this world, the angrier the illusions become until they ultimately destroy you. The illusions are really him in different forms."

"So the red eyes we're seeing – that's him?"

"Not all of them admittedly. But some, yes. Usually it's one of the main figures that you interact with."

McKenzie considered Coyote for a minute. "So you need our help to get rid of it."

Coyote grinned widely at her. "A cookie for the smart woman."

"You can't just back out of this deal and move on?" Dean mocked.

"You don't back out of a deal with a chepi. All you need to kill it is an oak branch dipped in the blood of a god. Luckily for you, I have one of those." Coyote pulled a branch out from behind his back with a flourish.

"You purposely picked us so we could kill it for you," said Dean.

"Batting a thousand! I didn't think hunters were that smart."

"How do we know you won't betray us?" McKenzie posited.

"Your options right now are trust me and get out of here, or don't trust me and be stuck here until he finally kills you out of boredom."

Dean frowned at McKenzie. "He's got a point."

McKenzie nodded, still watching Coyote. "Fine. It's a deal."

~*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

The details were sorted, and Dean and McKenzie had a few ideas on who the chepi was. Coyote confirmed he probably wouldn't be back until that night, as he'd gone out searching for another victim, expecting Dean and McKenzie to cave any day now.

In the meantime, Dean flipped through the TV channels, and McKenzie stood at the stove, mixing some spinach and tomatoes into pasta.

"I almost have dinner ready." She shook a bit more feta on to the pasta, stirring it so it would melt slightly.

"We're killing this thing in like two hours, Kenz."

"So? We still need to eat." The oven dinged and she pulled a pan of asparagus out. "Alright, come eat."

Dean stood, carrying his beer into the tiny kitchen. "Asparagus?"

"Yes, asparagus. What, never seen a vegetable before?"

"Not unless it's on top of a burger."

McKenzie set a plate of pasta and asparagus in front of him. "Just eat it."

"Pretty sure that's not the first time a woman has said that to me," Dean snorted.

"You do seem the type who would need instructions," McKenzie quipped as she sat down to eat. She lifted a forkful of pasta to her mouth, smirking at Dean.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't you know hunters are fast learners?" Dean settled in the chair across from her, stabbing at some pasta with his fork.

"Maybe in this alternate world, but my findings suggest otherwise."

Dean laughed loudly before starting in on his food. The pair were silent for a full minute before McKenzie made a noise of annoyance.

"What?"

She slid her chair back. "Forgot my drink."

"It's cool, I got it." Dean stood before she could. "What do you want?"

"Beer's fine."

Dean yanked the cap off a beer, and handed the bottle to her. "By the way, food's really good. Especially considering there's no meat in it."

McKenzie blushed. "When we get back to the real world, I'll make you a burger."

"Sounds good." Dean sat back in his chair, trying not to smile at how cute she looked when she blushed.

The pair ate quietly, with easy conversation back and forth about trivial things.

McKenzie finished the last of her pasta in time for Dean to ask the question she had been expecting, and also dreading.

"Was Clay the reason you stopped hunting?"

She picked up her beer and took a long sip before answering. "Yes and no. He didn't make me quit, if that's what you mean. I quit because I met him and wanted to see if I could live a normal life."

"Would you have been happy not hunting?"

"You mean had he been a decent guy and not an abusive asshole?" There was a tense silence for a few seconds before she answered. "I don't know."

Dean wanted to press for more, but could sense she didn't want to talk about it anymore. He watched her absentmindedly rubbing her left wrist. He'd seen her do that a few times since they'd been hunting together, but he couldn't figure out why.

A large part of him wanted to lean over the table and kiss her and promise to make sure she never dealt with another 'Clay' again, but his thoughts were interrupted by one of the regular servers at the diner bursting through the door and sending McKenzie flying out of her chair and against the counter behind her. She fell with a sickening thud as Dean yanked the oak branch from inside his coat, and launched himself at the woman.


	18. Chapter 18

Sam had drifted off over the kitchen table when he was awakened abruptly by Dean yelling.

"Sam! Sammy!"

"Dean? What the hell? Where have you been?" He leapt up, the chair flipping over and rolling on its side in his hurry. "Your bodies were here, but-"

"Kenzie's hurt!" Dean cut off Sam's questions. He was cradling McKenzie's limp body in his arms. She was unconscious, stretched across the bed.

"Shit, Dean. Cas is on the other side of the country this time. It will take him at least a full day to get here. We need to get her to a hospital!"

Dean hesitated as he moved to lift her. "She was thrown into a countertop. She hit her back on it. I don't know if I should move her."

"We're gonna have to if we want to get her to treatment. Just be really careful to keep her steady." Sam picked up the keys to the Impala and moved to toss them to Dean.

"No, you drive. I've got her."

Sam hesitated, realizing what Dean had just admitted. He cared for McKenzie. Deeply. "Okay."

As Dean maneuvered carefully into the back seat of the car – McKenzie perfectly still as he slid into the middle of the seat, her body held steady in his arms – Sam looked up the nearest hospital.

"It's a thirty minute drive from here."

"Fine, fine. Just go," Dean snapped, his eyes remaining on McKenzie.

Sam nodded, closed the door to the back seat, and then climbed in to the driver's seat, letting his GPS lead them to help.

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

"Mr. Axel?" A doctor approached Dean, who was pacing in the corner of the ER waiting room.

"Yes?" His head snapped up to respond.

"Your sister will be just fine. She has a compression fracture on the L1 vertabra, which is about here on her back." She pointed to a spot a few inches up from the tailbone. "We'll give her a brace that she can wear to help lessen the pain, but she shouldn't use it continuously as it can cause complications from lack of use. She'll have some pain killers, and should rest for a couple of days on modified bed rest. It's important that she does still move, but it should be careful movements and she should not lift anything over 5 pounds."

Dean tried to follow everything, making a mental checklist for later.

"When you return home, I suggest she follow up with her regular doctor. If the pain persists after two to three months, they may want to do some surgery. I doubt that will be necessary though – her bones are in excellent health, so likely the compression will heal quickly."

She paused. "Normally we see these types of injuries due to osteoporosis. How did you say this happened again?"

Dean frowned. He hadn't given an in-depth reason before. "My sister has a history with an abusive ex. They had… a run in." He hurried to continue as the doctor opened her mouth. "But don't worry. She has a restraining order on him, so once we return home, we will be pressing charges." He found himself ad libbing further, expressing his true feelings on Clay. "Hopefully this time it'll get the bastard in jail."

She nodded. "I will have my nurse write you a letter for the judge on her condition."

"Thank you. We appreciate your help." For the first time in a while, Dean found himself liking a doctor. "Can I see my sister now? And our brother just went for some food – when he gets back, I know he'll want to see her as well."

"Yes, of course." She waved to a nurse. "Please show Mr. Axel to his sister in bed 5."

Dean followed, texting Sam as they wandered through the keycode-locked ER doors. It was a short walk in the small hospital, and he found McKenzie struggling with the remote to the TV from her slightly elevated position in the bed.

"Hey, _sis._ How ya' feelin?"

McKenzie raised an eyebrow at him. "Like I have a fractured vertabra."

Dean chuckled at the nurse. "Well at least I know she hasn't suffered any brain damage that might cause a personality change. Thanks." He waited for the nurse to disappear into the hall, and closed the door behind her.

"Sam Axel? Really?"

"Well, it made sense for you to take Sam's insurance info. At the very least it just looks like our parents wanted to name you Samantha, but went for Sam. And we didn't have any fake insurance for a sister."

"You know, I do in fact have insurance that I pay for. If you'd have looked in my wallet, the card is right there." McKenzie clicked down on the power button for the TV.

"Oh. Well, this was better anyway. Otherwise they wouldn't have told me anything about your status."

"Where's Sam? Or, wait, what's our other brother's name right now if I'm him?"

"We actually haven't thought that far, honestly. He's out getting food." Dean pulled a chair close to the bed, and settled into it, resting his hand on the edge of the paper-thin sheet.

"Is there a reason you're touching my bed right now?"

"You're my sister, remember? If anyone comes in, I need to look like I care about you." Dean wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her, or himself.

She let out what he took to be a grunt of reluctant agreement and then changed the subject. "So how did things go with the chepi after I got blindsided?"

"Fairly easily, actually. Coyote came in at the last second and helped drive him towards me so I could stab him with the oak."

McKenzie was nodding.

"Doctor says you have to be on a sort of bed rest. You can either stretch out in the back of Baby, or Sam can rent something bigger to drive separately. A mini van maybe?"

"Back of the Impala is fine. I'll just take a couple of pills and sleep the whole way. Besides, I gotta get used to sitting for when we get back."

"Why for when we get back?" Dean had a feeling he knew the answer, but asked anyway.

"I gotta get back on the road. I have shit I gotta do."

"Did you not hear what I said? There's no way you're leaving the bunker any time soon."

"I'm not going to sit around while you and Sam take care of me. I'm not a little kid and you owe me nothing."

"I never said we owed you anything, and I'm well aware you're not a little kid." Dean almost flushed at the thoughts that conjured up. The images of her lying on the bed from that photoshoot, the picture he had in his mind of her lips after he'd just kissed them. "But you need to heal."

McKenzie shrugged. "I'm a fast healer."

Before Dean could retort, Sam walked through the door with a greasy bag. "I brought the meat." He paused. "That sounded bad."

"Who cares? Gimme food!" McKenzie reached an arm out at Sam who handed her a burger from the bag.

"Tell her she can't just leave as soon as we get back to the bunker. She has a fractured vertebra!" Dean accepted his burger from Sam, biting into it ravenously.

"Why would you leave?" Sam asked.

"I have things I need to do."

Sam's response was cut off by a nurse entering the room with a handful of papers.

"Okay, here are your discharge papers and prescriptions. Remember not to lift anything over five pounds, and you should walk around rather than staying entirely in bed, but rest is good for you."

Dean looked pointedly at McKenzie as she signed and initialed the various papers.

"So, ma'am, we do have a few hours' worth of a drive home, is that going to be okay?" Dean's voice dripped fake innocence. "Long rides can't be good for her back."

"I would say stop every couple of hours or so and get out and stretch. Today should be fine, but definitely avoid long car trips for at least three or four months, or until your regular doctor clears you." She spoke directly to McKenzie to answer Dean's question, and Dean smirked at McKenzie from behind the nurse's back.

By the time the nurse was gone, McKenzie was scowling at Dean.

"Don't think that this means I'm just going to do as you say. I'll stay for a couple weeks. Then I really do have to go." McKenzie glanced at the calendar on the wall. Eight weeks until she had to be in Virginia. No fracture was going to stop her from visiting her Bee.

~*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~*

The drive back to the bunker wasn't pleasant, particularly since the pain medication they gave her wasn't as strong as what she was used to. By hour three, she fished into her bag at a rest stop and came out with the Dilaudid she kept for when she got really hurt. She managed to sleep the remaining hour.

Getting out of the back of the Impala was more annoying than she'd been expecting. It took her three times to get up without making the pain in her back worse than before.

"Need a hand?" Dean suddenly appeared next to the car.

"No, I'm good," McKenzie insisted. She winced at the movement, but straightened her back and headed towards the main part of the bunker.

"Stubborn."

"Hypocrite," she retorted.

The rest of the night crawled by. Sam made them all a spaghetti dinner, complete with meatballs at McKenzie and Dean's requests. After dinner, the three found themselves in the library, a flatscreen TV Dean had recently purchased playing an older episode of _Arrow._

"So is it in this guy's contract to be shirtless like every episode?" McKenzie's eyes never parted from the actor's chest.

"It must be," Dean grumbled, watching McKenzie gaze at Oliver Queen.

"I mean, I'm not complaining or anything." She wagged her eyebrows and licked her lips for effect.

Dean cleared his throat. "Did you want some ice cream?"

Her gaze shifted away from the screen as the scene changed, and the actor's shirt was back on. "There's ice cream?"

"Yeah, I had Sam pick some up when he went to the store earlier. Ben and Jerry's right? Pistachio?"

McKenzie blinked in surprise a couple of times before finding her voice. "Yea-yeah."

"Cool. I'll go grab it."

Dean vanished briefly and then shuffled back in to the room holding two pints of Ben and Jerry's and two spoons.

"You and Sam sharing?" McKenzie chuckled, accepting her Pistachio Pistachio ice cream from Dean.

"Sam's too healthy for ice cream." Dean opened his pint of Chocolate Fudge Brownie, and stuck his spoon in, scraping out a small bite.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not huge on ice cream. I prefer cookies."

"Mm...cookies are good, too." She grinned at Sam as she ate her Ben and Jerry's. "So what else has this actor been in?" McKenzie nodded back at the screen with a wag of her eyebrows.

~*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~*

Dean jerked awake, startled by the nightmare. He cursed under his breath as he remembered his dream.

McKenzie. Thrown against a wall by the chepi, but this time there was so much blood and it took Dean so much longer to take down the chepi. So much blood, and not enough time to get to a hospital.

He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his mouth.

In the time since they'd been back, he'd had to fight the urge to take her into his arms more than a couple of times. Even though his time sleeping next to her had been short lived, he wished she were lying next to him. He'd noticed her nightmares had been far fewer when they'd shared a bed. Throughout the night, Dean had found himself waking, likely because of habit, and because it was the first time he could recall sharing a bed with someone that wasn't his brother. Anyone he picked up at a bar tended to leave that same night, not stick around.

Only one time in the night had she started to toss and turn, and finally he'd been able to reach over and lay his hand on her head. Her hair had been so unbelievably soft. It had taken him several minutes to realize that she had calmed back down and was snoring softly before he'd stopped stroking her hair and removed his hand.

Dean sighed at the memory. When had he become so besotted with her? He closed his eyes and thought of kissing her.

Maybe it _would_ be better if she left.


	19. Chapter 19

McKenzie flinched as she sneezed, pain from her fracture arching up and across her back and around her sides. This was getting old.

It had been three days. Three days of feeling utterly useless. Three days of being watched like a puppy with a history of having accidents on the good rug. At least she'd been "allowed" to cook dinner the night before after insisting that chicken fettucine alfredo didn't require her to do anything she wasn't allowed to do.

She needed to get out of there. She needed to be in Virginia in a month, and sitting around the bunker was not getting her any closer to that. According to Google Maps, it would take about 20 hours to drive back. If she split up her drive so she took breaks every three hours, and only limited herself to eight hours each day, it would take a little over two days, which was reasonable. The only catch was getting out of the clutches of Florence Nightingale and his dutiful assistant Sam.

Dean hadn't seemed like the caregiver type when they'd first met, but for some reason he'd been practically waiting on her, scolding her if she even looked like she was going to lift something he deemed 'too heavy', or making sure she balanced the time she was up moving with time she was resting. As far as she knew, neither of the men were looking into new cases. He even had Sam keeping an eye out for her when he was working on the car or off doing whatever it was Dean did in his free time.

A part of McKenzie kept sneaking up on her, which made her wonder why Dean was taking care of her so adamantly. She allowed herself every so often to consider the idea that he had feelings for her, but she quickly shot that down, convinced he either felt guilty that she got hurt and he didn't, or that he simply had a hero complex.

Either way, she had to find a way to leave.

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

Dean reclined back into the sofa on the side closest to where McKenzie sat stiffly in the armchair. They were watching the next episode of _Dr. Sexy_ on the Netflix queue and drinking small glasses of bourbon. He'd long since given up trying to talk McKenzie out of drinking with her pain meds; it was a lost cause and while he knew it wasn't good for her, she had been right that the mixture didn't make her drunker or loopier since she had a built-up tolerance already.

"Okay, now he's just being an idiot."

"What? Dr. Sexy is never an idiot."

McKenzie frowned at him and rolled her eyes. "Every man can be an idiot. He keeps going after this chick he knows he can't have."

"And why can't he have her? Dr. Sexy can have anyone he wants," Dean scoffed.

"Okay, first off, she's not some dessert on a menu. Secondly, she clearly doesn't want to be involved with anyone right now. He needs to move on." McKenzie took another sip of the bourbon, relishing its smoothness. Hopefully her good taste would stop Dean from drinking the swill he'd been buying.

"Obviously she's going to change her mind. He is going out of his way to show her she can trust him. The least she can do is try."

Now McKenzie scoffed. "She can trust him? She barely knows the meaning of the word trust anymore. It's not like a romantic dinner and some quick act of chivalry is going to change that."

"Quick act of chivalry? He rescued her from that gang after she saved the life of their rival gang's leader!"

"He's a _doctor._ He saves lives. It's _literally_ his job."

"So because it's his _job_ , he felt nothing about it?"

"I mean, it's possible." McKenzie shook her head, still watching the show flip back and forth between the two characters.

"He gave her his lucky stethoscope when she was having a bad day. That means something. That means _everything_ for Dr. Sexy."

"It's a _stethoscope._ "

"Yeah. His _lucky_ stethoscope." Dean thrust a hand at the screen, "I mean, just look at him. He's crushed."

"She needs to look out for herself first. He'll get over it."

Dean was silent for a minute. "Maybe she needs to realize she doesn't have to do everything on her own."

"She has no reason to ever think that."

"Sometimes it requires a leap of faith."

"Anyone ever tell you to look before you leap… that could kill you."

Both were silent as the end credits began to roll, the theme song filling the quiet of the room.

McKenzie glanced down at her watch. "I should get to bed. It's past midnight." She stood quickly, not considering that the alcohol had numbed her back pain while she'd been sitting. A sharp jab sent her grasping for her back as she almost toppled over.

Dean leapt from the couch and pulled her into him, steadying her against his body. "You okay?"

She tottered uneasily in his arms, putting most of her weight into him. "Yeah, pain just made me a bit dizzy."

It took another second for Dean to realize how close they were. She was pressed fully against him, his right arm wrapped fully around her body as he held her upright. He peered down at her and met her gray eyes.

His voice was quiet as he responded. "Still dizzy?"

She shook her head almost imperceptibly. "No."

"That's good," he muttered, just before closing the gap and kissing her gently on the lips.

She responded after a moment, returning with slight pressure before deepening it. Her tongue swept across his lip before he opened his mouth to accept it.

Dean swung his left hand up to cradle her neck, his thumb stroking just under her ear. She shivered in response. Her hand found its way to his chest, where she let it lay, feeling the tight muscles underneath his shirt.

As he pulled her closer, a shooting pain raced through her back, sending her gasping away from him.

"Shit, I'm sorry!"

She waved him off as struggled to catch her breath, whether from the kissing or the pain, she wasn't sure.

"Kenzie…" Dean moved toward her, but she stepped backward out of his reach.

"I'm just gonna go to bed," she gasped, turning to walk away.

"Kenzie, stop. You're going to hurt yourself more."

Dean was suddenly at her side, his hand hovering just next to her back, unsure whether to touch her or not.

"We can't do that again."

"Says who?"

"Says me. We only had to to survive in the chepi's reality. That's where it needs to stay." McKenzie shook her head, still trying to steady her breath as the pain faded.

There was a part of Dean that agreed with her. Dating and hunting were dangerous combinations. But kissing her had felt so good.

He didn't have to answer, as she began to walk away. "I'm going to bed, Dean. Goodnight."

As she vanished through the door, he found his voice again, responding with a quiet voice. "Goodnight."

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie struggled not to sob as the tears fell. Sobbing hurt her back too much, and it was not a pain she was accustomed to.

She sat on the edge of her bed, a fresh razor in hand. As angry as she was for pulling the razors back out, she was angrier that she'd allowed herself to fall for Dean. Dean was a hunter. Dean was a man. Those were just two of the strikes against him. That wasn't including his alcohol abuse, or his stubbornness, or his track record with women.

The last thing she needed was to fall for someone so much like herself.

This time she held the razor over her arm, halfway between her armpit and the inside of her elbow. With a slow, deep pull the razor tore the flesh, leaving slits of blood which grew rapidly, and sent red creeks weaving down her arm. As she tried to slow her breath to stop the panic attack that was gaining power, McKenzie made three inch-long slices. Focusing on the slice, and the blood, she felt the panic attack begin to subside. The cuts gave her the control she needed, the control she lacked elsewhere in her life.

One slow breath. In. Out. Now another.

She'd brought some toilet paper with her, which she used to wipe off the trail of blood and press the cuts until they clotted.

Tears still sped down her cheeks, but her breathing had evened out.

Less than a month, and this would all be over.

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

It was another two weeks of Dean trying to help McKenzie, and McKenzie trying to refuse help and tiptoe around him, before Cas finally showed up at their doorstep.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see you! Let's go to it." McKenzie stepped up to Cas just as he walked into the kitchen.

Cas looked taken aback, but held out his hand anyway, concentrating for a moment. "The spine is entirely healed now. I also noticed some cuts-"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks. Those papercuts were super annoying." She hurried on to keep him from correcting her. "Well, boys…" she stretched, twisting fully around to enjoy the now pain-free movement. "Looks like I'll be heading out. Places to be, evil shit to kill."

"It's ten at night. Aren't you at least going to wait until tomorrow?" Sam frowned.

"Actually, I would suggest waiting longer than that. There is a storm coming in. Should arrive in less than an hour and will continue through almost all of tomorrow. Many tornadoes are likely." Castiel recited the information off as if he'd given his work schedule.

"Then I should get out of here now before it arrives." McKenzie made towards the door, but Cas interrupted her.

"It will catch up to you. Or you'll run right into it. Best to stay here, where tornadoes can't reach us."

"Fine," she growled. "I'll just go fold my laundry then."

The three watched her walk from the kitchen and towards the bedrooms.

Dean looked over to Cas as soon as she'd left. "Any sign of this Clay guy?"

"Nothing. There are many people named Clay, and quite a lot of them know people named McKenzie. I may have gotten a last name though just now." Cas smiled sheepishly.

"You read her mind while you healed her?" Sam asked, eyes growing wide as he peered towards the door, making sure she hadn't come back.

"I feel sort of bad about it. It's an invasion of her privacy."

"Yeah, yeah, Jiminy, another time. What's the name?" Dean motioned for him to get on with it.

"Jiminy? My vessel's name was Jimmy. And why would you bring that up now?"

"No, not – nevermind. I'll explain later."

"His name was Clay Benson, and they lived in a western town in Virginia. Something small and in the mountains."

"Awesome, Cas. Good job. We'll start looking him up now."

Cas looked to Dean as Sam left for his laptop. "So why do you want to find her ex boyfriend?"

Dean stared wistfully towards the hallway where she'd vanished a few minutes before. "I like to keep tabs on people who may end up dying in unfortunate accidents if they hurt the people I care about."

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~*

McKenzie had nothing left to pack. The only things remaining out were the clothes she was going to wear to bed, the clothes she planned on wearing tomorrow, and her toiletries so she could have one last deliciously hot shower before she went on her way.

She opened her door to head towards the library, but halted as she came face to face with Dean instead.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey." Dean peered around the room. "All packed then?"

"Yeah. Yeah figured there was no reason not to get everything together, ya know?"

"Yeah, no, that makes total sense." Dean nodded as they both became quiet again.

McKenzie was about to ask if he needed something when he spoke again.

"So, where are you headed from here?"

"Oh, um, needed to run some errands back home. You know, check in on some things."

"Back home? Like…Virginia?" Dean sounded alarmed.

"Yeah, why? There something the matter?" McKenzie crossed her arms over her chest.

"No…it's just a bit of a drive, is all. What do you need to do there?"

McKenzie narrowed her eyes. "Well, if it were any of your business… I need to check up on my grandmother's house. I try to go by there at least a couple of times a year."

"Oh I gotcha. Why don't you just hire like a caretaker or something?"

"I actually _have_ a caretaker. But I still like to check in myself on occasion. Why are you so interested in my habits, Dean?"

Dean stepped back. "I can't just be interested and try to be polite? Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

"You mean isn't that what normal people are supposed to do? That answer is yes. Hunters… hunters don't take interest in others. That gets people killed."

"Fine, I'm sorry, okay? I promise not to take any interest in your life ever again."

McKenzie sighed, suddenly feeling guilty as he turned to leave. "No, _I'm_ sorry. I just wasn't sure why the interest."

Dean shrugged, unsure of how to respond. "I mean… you've basically lived with us for the last two-ish months, and we don't know _that_ much about you. Figured it wouldn't hurt."

McKenzie scoffed, but then answered before Dean could question her reaction. "I just like going to my grandmother's house to make sure it's up to my standards. The caretaker is a great guy, but I'm really particular. Plus I keep a few things there that I don't keep in my storage shed."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like my grandmother's '65 Corvette convertible."

"Her what now?" Dean raised an eyebrow with interest.

"Yeah, I love that car, but it needs some serious work. I just don't have the skills nor the money to fix it up, so it's been locked up in her garage."

"One day I need to see this car. See it. Fix it. Drive it. Any or all of the above." Dean grinned.

McKenzie chuckled. "If you fix it, you're welcome to drive it anytime you like."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. That car hasn't been up and running since she died. It would be nice to have it working again." McKenzie smiled at him, surprised at how giddy he had become.

"I'll remember that."

His smile was adorable, his expression more relaxed than McKenzie had ever seen.

The two were quiet again until McKenzie muttered a quick curse to herself. "Oh, fuck it."

Dean's expression changed to confusion until McKenzie closed the gap between them and pressed her lips tightly to his.

He responded immediately, breaking only long enough to turn and close the door. The two stumbled to the bed, McKenzie pulling at his shirt, lifting it upward until he took it and yanked it over his head.

As he slid his hands to the hem of her shirt, McKenzie hesitated, her kisses almost stopping as her conflicted thoughts took over.

Dean noticed her pause, and rested his hands on her bare sides under her shirt as he pulled away from her lips. "I don't think I mentioned yet how many times you've turned me on without knowing it."

"Really?"

He nodded. "That night you had the nightmare and I came in here to check on you? I felt bad because you'd woken up from a nightmare, and the way you looked in that tank top…" He smirked to let her know what he was thinking.

McKenzie blushed. She reached down and grabbed the hem of the shirt, and pulled it swiftly off, trying to ignore how self-conscious she felt about Dean seeing her shirtless. Had he even ever had sex with someone who didn't have a flat, toned stomach?

But it only took Dean a second to reach up and wrap one large hand around her left breast. McKenzie let out a low moan as his hand squeezed softly through her bra, the lacy fabric rubbing against her nipple. He reached around with his other hand and deftly undid the clasp.

She almost groaned in protest as he moved his hand from her breast to let the bra fall to the ground. Instead she lifted her face to his and pulled him back into a kiss. Dean deepened the kiss, and tugged her against him so their bare chests pressed together.

Dean guided her to lie down on the bed, and quickly followed, lying down next to her. With careful touches he undid the button and zipper on her jeans, sliding them down until McKenzie could kick them off. He tried not to grimace at the scars that peppered her body – what looked like some burns, several small cuts, and some others he couldn't place.

Trying to shove the thoughts of what she went through out of his head, Dean traced along the waistband of her panties, happy with the shiver that pulsed through her at his touch.

"I don't think this is quite fair." McKenzie smirked at him, eyeing his jeans.

"Oh? Well I'd never want anyone to say that I'm unfair." Dean winked, and shed his jeans down to the boxer briefs that clung to him.

He took her face in his hand again, stroking her cheek with his thumb before he kissed her swiftly and moved down, making sure he took his time with every movement.

A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger right here, all. I need to get my laptop fixed up before I am able to write anymore!


	20. Chapter 20

McKenzie leaned back against the bed, as Dean slid her panties down her legs and tossed them to the floor. He stroked his fingers lightly through the curls of hair, delighting in the sound of her breath catching at the feel. Bending over deeper, Dean kissed along her thighs, finally setting in between her legs with a torturously slow lick as he separated her lips with his fingers. McKenzie gasped at the warmth of his tongue on her clit, writhing at his slow and steady ministrations.

"Dean…yes…" She moaned as he quickened the motion, the wetness of his tongue adding to her own juices.

She glanced down to see him smile up at her for just a second before he began sucking on her clit, lightly at first, and then with more determination as her hips bucked towards him and her gasps grew more desperate.

He paused just as McKenzie was about to crash into an orgasm, and instead she whimpered at the sudden loss of contact with him, and the frustration of coming back down from the edge.

"Dean, what the Hell?" She grumbled.

"Not yet." He grinned at her, and then reached over to the side table where he retrieved a condom. He shed his boxer briefs and slid the condom on, smiling down at McKenzie as he finished. McKenzie was busy appreciating the sight of Dean naked and crouched overtop of her.

"Like what you see?" Dean winked.

McKenzie rolled her eyes mockingly. "I ain't complaining."

He laughed, leaning forward to kiss her again, the taste of her still smeared across his lips. McKenzie's body pushed forward to press against Dean's, anxious to feel his skin against her.

Dean wriggled his hips so his cock strained against her thigh, making McKenzie moan at the thought of him thrusting into her. McKenzie shifted under him so he was positioned at her entrance, then reached down and wrapped her hand around him, squeezing softly a couple of times. Dean groaned and pushed forward into her.

She let out a gasp as her body took him in.

Dean froze, unsure at the gasp. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

McKenzie resisted the urge to laugh. She'd never pictured Dean as the type to be so concerned about a woman during sex. "No, no, you're fine. It's good. _Really_ good."

He smiled, sending McKenzie's heart fluttering just as he captured her lips once more and resumed his thrusts, pulling almost entirely out before sliding into her fully. Dean almost shuddered at the action, in part because the noises McKenzie was making were turning him on even more. Wrapping his arms around her back, he pulled himself close against her, reveling in the feel of her skin against his. McKenzie responded by wrapping her legs around him, causing Dean to sink deeper into her with a groan. He used the new angle to lean forward, creating friction against her clit each time he moved in and out of her.

Her breath hitched at the change, but she quickly recovered, making rhythmic moans at each thrust. As she climbed closer to her orgasm, the moans became louder and shorter between.

"Yes, Kenzie," Dea n urged.

"Dean…keep…going," she gasped.

"Kenzie…cum for me." Dean thrust harder now, his arm pulled back up so he could stroke and squeeze her breast as he moved in her.

McKenzie came with a scream, her body tingling and twitching with the intense rush that overcame her. Dean quickened the pace again, coming soon after her, and allowing himself to fall limp over her body.

McKenzie woke to find Dean curled next to her asleep, the sheets tangled around his still-naked body. She took a moment to admire his body and how peaceful he looked while sleeping. Soon after, though, she climbed from the bed and pulled on her panties and bra from the night before, along with the clothes she'd left out of her luggage.

"I preferred you naked."

She turned to find Dean leaning on an elbow with an eyebrow raised suggestively.

"I'm pretty sure that would cause some problems on the road, particularly the first time I have to stop for something like gas."

Dean frowned, "You're still leaving?" He pulled himself up and off the bed, grabbing for his boxer briefs.

McKenzie hesitated, unsure what to say. "Dean…this doesn't change anything. I don't need to hang around anymore. I have things I need to do."

"No," Dean stood, now buckling his recovered jeans. "You have things you need to avoid."

With a few shakes of her head, McKenzie started to shove the last few of her things into her bag.

Dean stepped around the bed to where she stood, "Kenzie, I… please stay."

McKenzie furrowed her eyebrows, "Why?"

"Because I want you to."

She sighed, shaking her head again, "What did you think, Dean? That having sex with me would suddenly make me change my mind? The Chepi's world wasn't some jumpstart to a relationship. I knew last night was a mistake." McKenzie pulled her luggage over her shoulder and slipped on the flip flops that were on the floor.

"You really think last night was a mistake?" Dean moved to block the door.

"If it's gonna make you get some idea that we're supposed to be together, or that you've got some sort of feelings for me, then yes," McKenzie tried to ignore the churning feeling in her stomach, and the parts of her that were torn between giving in and crawling back into bed with him, and the part that wanted to run as far as possible.

"It's not some idea, Kenzie."

"So, what, you like me now? You want to be my hunter boyfriend and we can go on hunts together and then maybe one day get married and have kids we'll raise to be hunters? The mobile in the crib would be great – different weapons to kill different monsters."

"No, of course not. I mean, I don't know. I just know I enjoy spending time with you, and I _really_ liked the sex last night." Dean looked down at the floor, seemingly unsure of what else to say.

"I'm not the dating type, Dean. I'm not the girlfriend type, nor the marrying type. I'm the fucking type. That's it."

Dean whipped his head up, "Like Hell. You're more of those things that half of the other women I've slept with. Probably more than all of the women I've slept with."

"Well that's a glowing recommendation," McKenzie said dryly. "I'm gonna go, Dean. Hunters aren't meant to be anything more than one night stands."

"I think you have that wrong, Kenzie. It's not that you're a hunter. You're terrified of being in a relationship again." Dean was visibly angry now, the lines on his forehead more pronounced.

"And is that hard to believe, Dean? I've heard the stories. Tell me – are you safe? Can you guarantee that I'll never fear you? That you'll never be an abuser?" Her tone betrayed her anger as well, with the underlying anxiousness she'd been pushing aside for the last few weeks.

Dean's expression melted from one of anger to shock, and finally to a steely blank face. "I suppose you're right. After all, as you said, you've heard the stories."

Guilt surged through McKenzie, but the rational part of her knew it was better for Dean to hate her. It meant he was less likely to try to stop her after all.

Tightening her grip on her bag, she moved forward as Dean stepped out of the way. "Bye, Dean."

He was silent as she walked out of the room.

~*~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~*~

THREE WEEKS LATER

"So why are we suddenly taking a case in Virginia, of all places?" Sam smirked at his brother.

"Because there's a possible case. We're hunters. We can't ignore a case."

Sam chuckled. "Okay, Dean, whatever you say."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"There are hunters on the east coast. We almost never come this way. But now that McKenzie mentioned she was coming back to Virginia, you seek out a potential case for us here. A case that looks like a small vampire nest to boot. That's just convenient."

"There were no cases around us, and – ya know what, just shut up." Dean scowled, still facing the road.

The car was silent for a few minutes, Sam smiling to himself, and Dean wondering whether McKenzie had come straight back, or if she'd stopped along the way. Was she even back yet? Had she already left Virginia? With his luck she'd probably already come and gone, moving on and leaving Dean in the dust.

Normally he would have just moved on and forgotten about it. But there was a small part of him wondering if Clay had found her, or if she had accidentally run into him at some store and been guilted into going back out with him. A much smaller part of him wondered if she'd thought about _him_ at all since she'd walked out of the bunker. Had she replayed their night together over in her head? Had she masturbated to images of that night like he had?

He tried to push her out of his head for the thousandth time since she'd left. It had become annoying. The last time he'd felt this way was with Lisa, and it tore him apart to think of that. At least he knew McKenzie would be able to handle herself against supernatural threats.

"Dean?" Sam was waving a hand in his face.

"What?" Dean snapped, trying to sound angry so Sam wouldn't question his reason for being so lost in thought.

"You missed the exit." Sam thumbed behind him.

~*~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~*

McKenzie stepped off the lowest rung of the ladder, surveying her progress. She had all of the gutters cleaned except one remaining side of the house, but it was almost dark and the sky had clouded over. Henry was generally a great caretaker, but sometimes he made the weirdest choices. Like waxing all of the floors of the house, but forgetting to clean out the gutters.

Leaving the ladder against the house, McKenzie pulled off her work gloves and tossed them onto the porch.

Her grandmother's house was still in great shape, minus a needed paintjob, and some other superficial work. Since coming back after leaving the boys, she'd already had an inspector out to double check everything, and the house was solid. It was good to know that if nothing else was stable in this world, at least Nan's house would remain standing.

In the distance, lightning flashed a couple of times, causing McKenzie to wonder if it was heat lightning, or if a storm were headed in. Her question was answered by a low rumble, which ended almost as quickly as it began.

Just as she closed the door to the house, her cell phone rang.

She weaved through the entryway back into the large kitchen, where her phone sat, shaking lightly at each ring.

"Sam?" She wrinkled her nose at the caller ID. "Why the hell-?" McKenzie cut herself off and swiped her phone to accept the call. "Sam?"

"McKenzie! I need your help. Are you still in Virginia? At your grandmother's?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"What's the address? Dean's hurt and I need to take him someplace, but we haven't checked into a motel yet."

McKenzie shook aside her desire to ask if Dean was okay, and instead rattled off the address so Sam could enter it into the GPS.

"We're fifteen minutes out. We'll see you in a bit," Sam paused. "That's-that's okay that we come there, right?"

"Oh. Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you in a few."

McKenzie had hung up before she realized that she had no idea why they had been in Virginia at all. And that made her simultaneously terrified and hopeful.


	21. Chapter 21

Trigger Warnings: mentions of domestic abuse and rape.

McKenzie yanked open the door, a little afraid of what she would find.

She was not disappointed.

Dean held a plaid shirt to his neck, batting Sam away from him as he wavered slightly.

"What the hell happened?" She moved to the side to allow the brothers to move past her into the foyer.

"Vamp nest. Is there somewhere I can stitch him up without it being a huge issue if I make a mess?"

"Um, the downstairs bathroom is fine. This way." She led them through the foyer and the kitchen, finally reaching a large den. McKenzie pointed to a closed door, "Here. Do you need anything? Towels, or medical supplies?"

"I'll take some whiskey," Dean winced as he spoke.

McKenzie almost said no, but then considered the pain he was probably in. "Yeah, give me a second."

By the time she got back with a glass of whiskey, Sam was stitching up one of two holes in Dean's neck.

"You got bitten!?" The glass almost slid from her hand, but she tightened her grip in time and saved it from falling.

Dean scowled from his awkward position. "I fought off three at once. Coulda happened to anyone."

"Hey, stop talking. You're gonna ruin the stitches."

Dean harrumphed in return, but remained otherwise silent.

"But you didn't… I mean, you weren't made to…"

"No, he didn't feed."

McKenzie let out a sigh she didn't realize she was holding in. "Oh, here." She held out the glass, and immediately wrapped a second hand around it after noticing how badly her hand was shaking.

Dean accepted the glass, holding it down in his lap as his brother finished tying off the last stitch.

"Alright, you're finished."

Sam had barely snipped the remaining thread before Dean was already gulping the whiskey, grimacing at what must have been painful swallows.

"So. Who wants to explain why the hell you're both in Virginia?"

Sam turned to Dean as he raveled the extra thread back around its spool. "Dean? Care to take that one?"

Dean scowled. "There was a vamp nest."

"A vamp nest? You came all the way from Kansas for a vamp nest?" She leaned to one side, her hand propped on her hip.

"It was a slow week." Dean shrugged, slipping past her into the den. "This is a nice place, by the way." He glanced out of the window. "Wow, rain's really coming down now."

"Don't change the subject. You were checking in on me. Admit it."

Neither McKenzie nor Dean saw Sam scoot out of the den, a smirk on his face.

"How could I check on you if I didn't even know if you'd still be here? Or if I didn't even know where your grandmother's house was?"

"The better question is how did you even know what town?"

Dean looked suddenly guilty and began closely studying some photos on the wall.

"Dean?" McKenzie prodded.

"Uh, Cas might have given us some help there."

"You got an angel to spy on me?"

"I mean… it wasn't really spying exactly. And it was useful to have some information about you in case we needed you for a job…"

"You have my number. That wasn't sufficient?" McKenzie crossed her arms, glaring at him.

"Look, I know this is where Clay lives. I don't understand why you would willingly come back here knowing that he's here!" Dean threw his arms up in confusion.

"Dean, Clay is _in jail._ He's been in jail since I went back to hunting." She shuffled to the window, avoiding Dean's gaze.

"I-I mean…" He stumbled. "I figured since you were terrified when you thought you saw him on that first case…"

She turned towards him, still standing next to the window. "Dean, I was being affected by a ghost. Of course I was scared. I kept trying to remind myself he was in jail with no chance of getting out, but the ghost was pushing stupid thoughts in my head, like that he somehow managed to escape, or that I had dreamt the entire trial."

Dean was silent.

"Come on," said McKenzie. She waved him through the kitchen and into the front foyer. With a quick poke of her head into the hall closet, she surfaced with two umbrellas and a large flashlight. "Here."

Dean accepted the umbrella and followed her out into the rain. "Kenzie, where are we going? It's pouring out here!"

"Just follow me. It's not far." McKenzie flicked on the flashlight as they walked around the back of the house and away from the porch lights. She moved quickly even in the dark, knowing instinctively where she was going.

Dean followed close behind, half watching the ground in front of him, and half watching where the flashlight beam was hitting in case it would give him a clue about where they were headed.

Finally McKenzie slowed about 50 yards from the house. Dean glanced around and realized they were in a tiny graveyard.

"Family cemetery?"

His eyes had adjusted to the dark and now he could see McKenzie nod in response.

"I don't get it. What's it have to do with Clay?"

McKenzie met his eyes with her own, allowing him to see the pain she felt. Instead of answering she weaved her way to the back of the graveyard. She halted beside a small gravestone, and let her light rest on it.

Dean's eyes skimmed the words. "Bianca Joanne Howard. August 25, 2015." He turned to McKenzie. "Why only one date?"

McKenzie kept staring at the gravestone. "Because she only lived for six hours."

The pieces suddenly fell into place for Dean. "She was yours. Yours and… his."

She nodded, and clutched her umbrella tighter. "She was due in December."

Dean moved closer to her, but didn't reach out. "What happened?"

McKenzie sighed. "On bad days Clay would accuse me of cheating. Said she wasn't his. Then one night he came home and told me he knew it wasn't his and he was going to get rid of it." She paused as Dean drew in a sharp breath. "I managed to get away after what must have been ten minutes. I drove myself to the hospital, but it's a good twenty minute drive. I went into early labor. They were shocked she lived outside of the womb for as long as she did."

She grew quiet for a long while, Dean following suit as he decided what he could possibly say.

"It was the kick I needed to leave him. I had some prior evidence of the abuse – text messages, emails, pictures of bruises. The hospital recorded the signs of the abuse when I came in with B. I took it all to the police as soon as the doctors said I could leave. They found him guilty on premeditated murder of an unborn child, and on domestic abuse charges. He got 30 years with no chance of early parole. It's not the maximum, but it's enough for now."

Dean was staring at the gravestone as she spoke, suddenly noticing the date. "It's two days from now."

McKenzie nodded. "I'm always here for it." She looked up at him. "I refuse to miss it."

"That's why you were so adamant to leave even with your back injury."

"I had to be here." Her eyes filled with tears. "It's my fault she's dead. The least I can do is visit her on her birthday."

"How the hell is that your fault!?"

"I'd thought about leaving Clay a hundred times before I got pregnant, and then even more after. If I'd just left after I first got pregnant, she would still be here. But there were so many good days in the beginning of the pregnancy… He was helping around the house, finding things to decorate the nursery… I really thought…" McKenzie drifted off, before picking back up, her words now filled with regret and venom. "It was stupid. I knew deep down things wouldn't change. All I was doing by staying was putting her at risk. Even if she had lived, she would've been another victim of his anger."

"Kenzie, you can't-" Dean started.

"She saved me, Dean," McKenzie interrupted. "I never would have left. I was too broken, and brainwashed, and if he hadn't killed her I would probably be dead and she would still be living with him and suffering who knows what tortures every day! It took my baby's _death_ for me to take control and press charges to protect myself. Because nothing else he did to me would have satisfied the cops to have gotten sufficient protection. He would probably have been put in jail for a year if I'd pressed charges before. And then he would've found me again! Despite being beaten, and starved, and humiliated, and raped every. Single. Day…He would've walked away after hardly anything."

Her face was soaked with tears, her voice filled with pain and sadness. He felt his own eyes well up at the thought of her spending three years of her life going through such torture.

"His friends would've testified against me too. Saying that I was faking everything and lying. And why wouldn't they testify? Clay loaned me out for their personal use whenever they wanted. Every twisted fantasy, every sadistic horror… they did with me what their girlfriends wouldn't let them do to them." Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself now – only one hand sticking out enough to keep hold on the umbrella.

A tear streamed down to his chin, and without hesitation Dean dropped his own umbrella, closed the gap between them and took her into his arms, his right arm crooking to take the umbrella from her hand. She pressed herself into him, burying her face in his chest as she sobbed.

~*~*~SUPERNATURAL~*~*~*

McKenzie shifted, shoving some of the quilt off of her before she realized she was probably sweating because Dean's arm and leg were draped across her. Her eyes burned, and her head ached, both remnants of the sobbing she'd done earlier. The memory made her groan. She'd lost it. Collapsed into Dean and sobbed until he'd picked her up and carried her back to the house. McKenzie's cheeks flushed. She was probably heavier than other women he'd carried around, and she'd been too busy getting snot all over him to even think about it. Then they'd come back here and… her mind reeled. Why were they in bed? It took a minute for her to recall the previous night – Dean calming her, holding her, and then helping her find a decent night of sleep.

They needed to leave. How did she keep slipping up around him? Why was he even checking up on her?

McKenzie moved to climb out of the bed, but Dean's hand pulled her back towards him. He moaned sleepily, "Why are you getting up? Sleep is good."

"I have stuff to do, Dean. Breakfast won't make itself."

He grunted, "Breakfast can wait. Come back to bed."

"Dean, I…" She drifted off, unsure of what to say. "We can't pretend like we're some happy couple, okay?"

His eyes flickered open, finding hers. He pushed himself up to a sitting position. "Why won't you let yourself be happy, Kenzie?"

"What makes you think that being with you would make me happy?" She tried to sound annoyed, but knew it hadn't entirely worked.

"You don't like me at all? Not even the tiniest bit?" Dean pushed.

"It's possible to like you, but be happier without you."

"No, it's not."

"I can't do this again. And you know it." McKenzie stood and pulled open her dresser, shoving the clothes around as she tried to focus on what to wear.

"Bullshit!"

She winced at his voice, still flipping through the stack of tee shirts in the drawer.

"Don't ignore me, Kenzie."

The springs in the mattress creaked, and she knew he was coming towards her.

"We could make it work. I won't hurt you. Ever."

The shirt she was holding fell from her hands as she twirled around angrily, "You don't know that. You can't promise that. Don't even try!"

"Kenz…please." He was immediately in front of her now, his voice almost a whisper. "You and I both know I'm not the relationship kind of guy. I run the opposite direction."

"You're not really helping your case, ya know."

"I was miserable after you left. I've wanted you since we ended up fake-engaged. Since before. You can ask Sam – I haven't even hit on another woman. I wanted to after you left – it seemed like the only thing I could do to get my mind off of you. But I failed. I stopped halfway through a pick up line, because I felt guilty. Like I was cheating. Just… try. If I piss you off, you can shoot me."

McKenzie smirked in spite of her reticence. With a sigh, she considered what it would be like to allow herself to give in to her feelings for Dean. It was a great image. Cuddling with him at night, kissing him whenever she wanted… the sex was a great bonus too.

She nodded slowly.

"Does that mean yes? You'll give us a chance?"

"Yes, Dean." She met his eyes. "I'll try."

With a swift move, Dean pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. She returned the kiss, both relieved that she had finally given in, and hesitant at what the future would bring.


	22. Chapter 22

***Weight of the Past will be on a brief hiatus while I get my shit together and finish my graduate thesis. :/ Strict deadline, here I come.***


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